After Five Lifetimes
by Stray Princess
Summary: Orihime wonders what's left after falling in love with the same person five times, and if there's room for anyone else. It isn't all her decision alone to make as an encroaching danger closes in from her past.
1. Girl in the Window

It should have been raining, raining torrentially, and they should have been hidden away in some darkened alley corner or a dirty side street inlet, out of the way, where no one would see them.

But it wasn't raining, it was sunny and warm, mockingly late summer with a few distinct gray clouds in the distance, and they were under the maple tree around the corner from the Kurosaki clinic. Ichigo should have been more awkward than he was, but it looked like he knew what he was doing, and Rukia was letting him do it.

"Damn half breed," Renji muttered to himself.

The anger welled in him faster than a flame swallowed a moth. He paused on the sidewalk, ready to burst his new gigai into spontaneous combustion on the concrete. He didn't pause for more than a few moments that seemed an eternity before moving on. He had relegated himself to an older brother figure to Rukia, and he was going to remain in that role if it took an unholy strength to do it. He'd sorted through those emotions long ago, when he'd come to after being beaten so soundly by Kurosaki in Soul Society as Rukia awaited her death sentence.

It still pained him, not so much as losing the prospects of becoming her future lover, but as stepping aside, again, to let her move on to a better life. Or at least a happier one. He wasn't being shoved aside as her adoption into the Kuchiki family had done him; Kurosaki's presence in Rukia's life made him rethink them, he and she, and Renji realized, all at once, that they were friends, not lovers, and friends on a level that Ichigo Kurosaki could never fathom.

He moved on, taking the turn in the sidewalk, barely aware of the snide looks the other passersby gave his appearance. He'd gotten used to that.

Older brothers had depths of protection lovers and friends didn't, and Renji had come to accept that that was what he had for that exasperating midget he called Rukia.

He stopped by chance a few streets over, several blocks from the kissing couple whose image was still blazing in his mind, looking around to get his bearings. The streets of Karakura were much the same. Noodle shops and boutiques, more of the same, each trying to eek out a living among the Living.

The strands of a pink bow drifted down before his view, settling slowly onto the sidewalk before him. He picked it up, turning the long shiny ribbon in his fingers. It had once been a bow, recently, given the curly spring it had, pulled apart carefully so as not to split or wrinkle. He looked up, and then grinned at the back of thigh angled over an open window four floors up where the figure sat on the ledge. The pleated hem of a schoolgirl's skirt hung over the side, her knee bent. It moved, not out of sight, and he suddenly knew who it belonged to.

He took the stairs two at a time inside the apartment building. Why Orihime Inoue had to live on the fourth floor in one of the more twisting buildings he didn't know. _Not a straight staircase in the damn place,_ he thought, taking yet another tight corner in the zigzag of staircases.

He got to the small fourth floor landing and found her door, hoping it was the right one. He'd only been there a few times, with Rukia. He paused before knocking, the smell of warm cinnamon wafting from inside.

"Oh, shit, she's cooking," he mumbled as he knocked, looking to the ribbon in his hand.

There was a few footsteps inside, followed by a rattle of the lock at the doorknob, and then the door opened a couple inches. One large hazel eye looked back at him, widening before the door was slammed shut.

He frowned and was wondering what he'd done already to get her ire up when the door flung open and she looked back at him with a bigger smile than he thought he deserved.

"Abarai-san, what a surprise," she said, wiping her face with her palm, pushing her hair back. She looked past him.

"Rukia's not with me," he said as her eyes traveled the hall behind him. He held up the ribbon. "You dropped this?"

Her face fell a little as she saw it, but perked back up immediately. "Oh, yes, in the window." She bit her lip and stood back into the room, smiling more. "Come in."

He stepped in, feeling strange at the entering without Rukia at his side to excuse away a visit. He looked down at the ribbon. It wasn't much of an excuse. Maybe he wouldn't need much of one.

She closed the door behind him and they stood awkwardly in the small room. He held the ribbon out to her.

"Thanks. I guess it drifted away ..." She didn't finish, taking the ribbon he handed her. She looked down at it, pulling it through her fingers. She looked suddenly to the small kitchenette beyond the main room in which they stood. "Come in, Abarai-san. I have to get cookies out of the oven."

He nodded, watching her go into the kitchen, which was no more than a tiled area against part of the exterior wall, a small window at the sink overlooking the street outside. Also on the same wall, divided only by a short wall with an apartment sized refrigerator against it, was the window he'd seen her in, the single long curtain draped to one side by a tall bookshelf.

"Cookies. Are you expecting company?" he asked, stepping farther into the room, glancing at the sparse furnishings. A rug in the center, a folded futon with a few pillows, a low table with two cushions.

"No. I just like cookies." She reached into the oven, heat billowing out as her hands, encased in thick oven mitts, pulled out a cookie sheet. She placed it on the stove top and closed the door. She slipped off the mitts and smiled at the cookies, then looked to him. "Funny. The oven works, but two of the burners on top don't."

He nodded, returning a grin to her now timid smile. His eyes rested on a card on the low table, recognizing the greeting on the front. He looked back to her as she took a couple steps towards the table. "When was your birthday?"

Her smile remained slight as she shrugged lopsidedly, her hair lifting as she raised a shoulder. "Today."

He grinned a little more, hoping she'd complete her smile. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

"What are you doing for it? Anything?" He almost regretted saying anything, recalling too late she had no immediate family on speaking terms.

"No. Tatsuki is out of town for a karate tournament." Her eyes shifted to the ribbon on the counter by the oven mitts. "I'm too old to do anything for my birthday, Abarai-san. That's for children."

He chuckled, seeing her smile fuller. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

He nodded. He still couldn't believe it had been a year since the Winter War had ended and Aizen, while defeated, had escaped and become scarce. Most assumed he was regrouping with a few dozen of Arrancars that had survived, but there was no conclusive evidence of anything of the former shinigami captain yet.

"Seventeen isn't too old to stop doing things on your birthday, Orihime. You just have to find new things to do."

She giggled, smiling, a blush passing over her cheeks. "I suppose you're right, Abarai-san."

"Don't be so formal."

She nodded, then looked to the kitchen. "Would you like a cookie? They're snickerdoodle."

"What's that?"

She waved for him to follow as she went back to the kitchen and found a metal spatula in a drawer by the single sink. "They're like sugar cookies, except they have more spices. Like cinnamon."

He looked at the rack of cookies cooling on the counter and then to the platter of pale golden cookies nearby. They smelled wonderful, unlike the Rukongai streets that had never carried the aroma of foods during his childhood. She slid a cookie off the sheet with the spatula and put it on a napkin and handed it to him.

"They're still warm."

"Thanks." He took a bite of the cookie, watching her eat one, too. Her hair was a little longer than when he'd seen her last, her eyes slightly reddened, showing signs of crying earlier. She wasn't wearing her school uniform skirt as he'd originally thought, but another skirt of similar color. Her blouse was peach, not quite matching the skirt, dusted at one side of her chest from cinnamon and flour.

He saw her eyes go to the ribbon on the counter, a droop in her expression making her chew slower.

"What was that?" he asked abruptly.

She looked guiltily to him, swallowing her bite. "Oh, just a bow. An old bow from an old gift from last year."

"You kept the bow and not the gift?"

She frowned, and then giggled a little. "I kept the gift, too, Abarai-san."

"Renji," he said.

She looked back to the half-eaten cookie in her hand.

"Say it," he insisted.

She smiled, looking him full in the face. "Renji."

He nodded. "Better."

She nodded, munching another bite. "I don't know why I kept it."

"A bow from a birthday gift?"

She popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth and scooped another off the sheet and set it on the napkin he still held without asking if he wanted another.

But he did.

"A gift from a friend who meant -- means -- a lot to me, but not in the same way anymore." She served herself another cookie, turning to face him, leaning against the counter. Her eyes held his for a moment. "You ever give up on things? Renji. Probably not. I'll bet you don't. I know you're determined."

He shrugged, watching her lips close around the edge of the cookie. _No shy eater, not her_, he thought as she took a bite. "I think the word you're looking for is hard-assed stubborn."

She put a hand over her mouth, laughing. "That's three words."

He grinned. "Yeah, it is. What are you giving up on?"

The smile left her face. "Old wants. Memories. Geez, that sounds so profound, but it's really just a girlish, childish dream."

He didn't push the subject. She'd told him enough. His eyes went to the pink ribbon that lay curled behind her. "Were you wanting to get rid of that? Did you toss it out the window, Orihime?"

She sighed, looking to each of his eyes. "I didn't throw it out. I just let it go. Let the wind take it." She stood straighter suddenly. "Oh, do you want something to drink? I forgot to ask."

"Not unless you've got a beer."

This time she laughed outright. "No, I don't."

He grinned, watching her half-snort as she laughed. He looked around until spotting the small clock on the wall shaped like a green apple. "I should go. I'm due at Urahara's to get this gigai checked. He's running tests on new models and I'm a guinea pig."

"Oh, you're staying there?"

He nodded, watching her slide the spatula under another cookie. "For a while. These new models are supposed to not breakdown as quickly as the old ones."

She placed the cookie on another napkin. "You don't know how long you're going to be in town?"

"Not really."

She put two more cookies on the napkin and handed it to him.

"You don't have to do that," he said even as he accepted them.

"I can't eat them all by myself," she said, sighing as she looked to the other cookies on the plate and rack. "Well, maybe I can, but I shouldn't."

He shook his head, chuckling. "Thank you."

She looked from the cookies to him, smiling. He stepped nearer, making her breath catch a little as he reached around her and took the pink ribbon. Her eyes followed the ribbon, and then went to his face.

"Unless you want to keep it," he said, watching her study his eyes.

She shook her head, gaze dropping to his lips as he remained closer than he needed to. "No."

"I shouldn't have brought it back." He bent and kissed her cheek lightly, not lingering, but long enough to know she smelled of something other than cinnamon. "Happy birthday, Orihime."

She didn't move, swallowing nervously at his proximity, cheeks heating pink. "Thanks, Renji."

He took the ribbon and napkin of cookies and went to the door in the small living room. When he turned she was a step behind him, her fingers on her cheek where his lips had so briefly brushed.

"Thanks for that, too," she said with more than a hint of a smile.

He grinned. "My pleasure."

She opened the door and he left into the hall. By habit she twisted the lock after him, and then dashed to the window to look out at the sidewalk. After a few moments Renji emerged from the building's main level, looking up to see her. She waved just a little, feeling silly at even looking for him.

He waved back and headed back deeper into town.


	2. Past Shadows

Renji didn't return directly to Urahara's shop after leaving Orihime's apartment. He wasn't a deadbeat this time on his passive mission of testing out the new gigai; this time he had his own place.

He sighed as he looked at Urahara's shop neighboring his new residence and opened the gate overrun with some creeping plantlife to the alley running between the buildings. Urahara had arranged for him to take an apartment in the three story house, barely more than a few rooms, but better than living with Urahara and his entourage, Renji thought. He climbed the stairs running outside the back of the tall house that was currently used as apartment housing. The landlady was old, half blind, with only selective hearing, it seemed, and Urahara had arranged for Renji to get room and board on the top floor in exchange for doing repairs and anything else Urahara, Tessai, and Jinta didn't feel like doing for the woman.

It wasn't bad, he decided as he reached the top of the rickety stairs to his own private entrance to the corner set of rooms, fitting the key in the door. Much preferred to Urahara's shop on several levels.

He opened the door to the main room, which was little more than a twenty-by-twenty foot box with a small bathroom and kitchen covey to one side. Smaller than Orihime's apartment had been, he thought, and not nearly as pleasant to come home to, but it sufficed. A futon was pushed to one side, haphazardly made, with a small counter jutting out at the kitchen area with a sturdy wooden stool -- the landlady had called it a bar, of all things -- and enough counter space for a hot plate and a rice cooker. Aside from the deep single sink and refrigerator that fit under the counter with the hot plate and cooker, that was it. The necessities.

He pulled off his black headband and loosened the hair-tie, then pulled it out completely, running a hand through his hair. He'd opted for a black instead of white band recently, bringing a chuckle from Rukia that he gave any thought to it at all. He'd pointed out that she'd recently started to wear an anklet, which had shut her up quick. He knew it was a gift from the strawberry.

Heavy footsteps reached the stair landing outside the closed door and Renji knew who it was even before the wheezing paused, and he wished Mrs. Tanaka would stop climbing the stairs and just throw a rock at one of his three windows or hit the floor with a broom. He really didn't want to have to take her to Urahara's for emergency respiratory attention.

He opened the door as her fist hit the first knock.

She gasped, half from her climb, half from what she could see of him with his hair down. "Abarai-san?"

"Ah, Tanaka-san," he said, bowing and working his hair back into a ponytail. She leaned to the landing rail, wheezing. "You shouldn't have troubled yourself for the climb. If you just hit the floor with something I'll come right down."

She nodded, nearly as wide as she was tall, her round face squinting at him as he set his hair back up. "You walked too fast." She swallowed, coughing a little. She pointed a knobby finger crooked with arthritis to the shop next door over. "Your son was here about an hour ago. Something urgent."

Renji nodded, hoping she couldn't hear the growl in his throat. "Thank you, Tanaka-san, but Jinta is not my son. He's Urahara-san's charge."

She nodded, waving this away with a hand, as she'd done for the last week whenever he told him it, and caught her breath. "That shopkeeper wants to see you immediately."

"Thank you."

She seized the handrail with a tight grip in preparation for the trip down the staircase. "The tree's hanging over Nishigawa-san's fence. He wants it trimmed tomorrow."

He nodded. "I'll get to it tomorrow."

He held his breath as she ascended the stairs, wincing for her as she took the close-set steps slowly. When she'd reached the bottom he pulled his door shut and went over to the shop.

* * *

Rukia was already deep in conversation with Ichigo and Urahara by the time Renji got there, and he got the feeling they'd been arguing over something. The storage room was set off from the main shop rooms where Tessai was seeing to a few customers, and Urahara wore less of his usual smirky smile.

Ichigo was livid, but making an effort at controlling his tone. "I know him when I see him, Urahara, and it was him," he said emphatically for what appeared not the first or second time. "Rukia saw him, too."

Renji looked from Ichigo to Rukia, who leaned to the wall with her arms crossed, both in shinigami robes. She nodded him over, and Renji pulled the door shut behind him, trying to read what was in her face. Utter confusion, was all he could get from her, but it was better than thinking about the last time he'd seen her that afternoon.

"Who'd you see?" he asked, pushing aside his thoughts.

Urahara flipped the fan faster across his face, chuckling. "Ghosts, Renji. Ghosts of battles past."

"It wasn't a ghost, damn it, it was him. I killed him, I know him when I see him," Ichigo said, rubbing his shoulder. "He was with two Hollows. No problem taking care of them --"

"Who?" Renji demanded, lowering his voice at a hissing "_Hush_" from Rukia. "Who'd you see that you already killed?"

Ichigo turned his scowl on the male shinigami. "Grimmjow."

Renji didn't know if it was the new gigai model or sheer surprise, but the name made his heart wreck a thump. "Grimmjow? He's dead. All the Espada are dead."

"It was him, Renji," Rukia said. She looked back to Urahara. "He was barely detectable. Hardly any spiritual pressure, and what he had was cloaked by the Hollows. If I hadn't seen him myself, I wouldn't have known he was there."

"He looked fully recuperated to me," Ichigo mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes on Urahara. "Undamaged."

Renji put his hands on his hips, glaring at Ichigo. "He was just standing around watching you and Rukia take care of the Hollows? Didn't try to interfere?"

Ichigo nodded slowly. "That's what's so confusing. He just watched, and then he just walked off when we were done. I went after him and he was gone. All in white, unarmed."

"The mask?" Renji asked as Urahara sighed.

Ichigo nodded. "Mask, too."

"It's someone's idea of a joke," Urahara excused. "A creative joke. The only one with near the brainpower to fabricate an Arrancar or Espada is Captain Kurotsuchi or Aparro."

"And you," Rukia added.

The fan snapped back in front of the shopkeeper's face. "Why, my dear, you flatter me."

"She wasn't trying to," Renji grumbled. "Captain Kurotsuchi wouldn't waste his time on a joke and Szayel Aparro is dead."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed on Urahara. "But you're alive and kicking."

"As honored as I am to be listed in their company, this apparition is not my work," Urahara said with a chuckle. Neither Ichigo nor Rukia laughed. He cleared his throat. "You're mistaken. If it was a resurrected Grimmjow -- or any Espada -- they'd have stuck their fingers in your pie when you were done with the Hollows, shinigami. Assure yourselves of that."

"I told you we shouldn't have bothered telling him," Ichigo said to Rukia, heaving his sword strap over his shoulder better. "Come on. Let's go."

Rukia pushed herself off from the wall, sighing as she looked to Renji. "We know what we saw."

He nodded. "I believe you."

Ichigo threw a glare at Urahara as he followed Rukia to the door. "You better not being screwing around, Hat-n-Clogs."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Urahara said, grinning.

Ichigo glanced at Renji as he passed him. "How long you going to stay in that piece of shit gigai?"

"No need to insult my workmanship," Urahara said, the grin falling from his face.

"Not sure yet," Renji told him, holding the substitute's stare. "You're certain it was him?"

There was no doubt in Ichigo's face. "It was him, Renji, but like Rukia said, he had no presence. Something totally odd about it."

"Maybe his powers haven't been restored yet," Renji said, looking to Rukia, who shot a look to Ichigo. "That he's even walking around, I'm not sure what that means."

Ichigo nodded and followed Rukia out the door.

Renji looked to Urahara, who was watching the pair leave, his characteristic mocking smile absent. "You believe them, don't you?"

Urahara grinned, flagging the fan quickly. "Few have the technology to bring back the dead, Abarai."

Renji's eyes narrowed on him. "Maybe it's a new top of the line gigai."

Urahara wasn't pleased. "I prefer to think it's a trick of lighting."

They heard the tinkle of the shop's front door bell as Rukia and Ichigo left.

Urahara smiled. "Why do you smell like cinnamon, Renji?"

Renji shook his head at him, sometimes hating that sly look on the man's face. "Let's just get this check-up done."

Urahara smiled more. "You haven't been misusing my gigia model, have you?"

"Let's get this over, Urahara."

* * *

Across town a tall striking figure was searching futilely for a woman. Not just any woman, not one of the many he'd seen loitering at the train station or outside the bar alley doors. One woman.

Memories had been replaced, some were sketchy. Many of the important ones were missing.

But he had enough to know who to hate, who to hold responsible, and who to find.

It had been a passably entertaining afternoon, watching two shinigami fight down a couple of Hollows, the black-robed forms holding a vague familiarity. Not enough to make him want to impale either of them, but the sight of the larger male one did make the bile rise in his throat, had he any bile.

The hating would return later, he'd been promised, and then he could make good use of it, return to his former glory, which he _did_ remember, and for that he had something he hadn't had before the War. Hope.

It was a weak word, but it was useful now, and he resolved to using it long enough to claw his way back to the top where he belonged. He had one woman to thank for that. But he wouldn't thank her, if he ever saw her again.

He frowned at a couple of people walking a dog across the street, aware they were unable to see him and wishing for a moment the dog would at least sense him and run yipping away.

Maybe he would thank her. She'd made so much possible. More than she ever knew.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone that reviewed and favorited this story. I wasn't sure there was much interest in this pairing, but they're one of my favorite.


	3. Leftovers

The tree at the bamboo fence between Mrs. Tanaka and Mr. Nishigawa's back yards was eyelevel to Renji, and the maple tree hanging over it was mature, having seen its share of neighborly squabbles, some of which it had even caused.

Renji was unfamiliar with tree trimming, but his landlady have been liberal in her description that afternoon of what she and her neighbor expected, and Renji assumed any branches hanging below the fence height had to go. He'd made quick work of the first few branches, and then gotten confident -- and clipped off what turned out to be a major limb that took a whole section of tree with it, and into Mr. Nishigawa's yard.

He scowled at the mistake, and then took the walk around the yard and through both garden gates to use up all his worst curse words before he knocked on Mr. Nishigawa's door. It had been easy to get permission to enter the man's back yard, especially after the man seen the large limb sprawled over most of his freshly clipped grass, and Renji had spent two hours cleaning up that mess and then the one on Mrs. Tanaka's side of the fence.

"Thank you," Mrs. Tanaka's gravelly voice came from the apartment house as he finished the work.

"Oh, you're welcome."

Orihime's soft voice floated to Renji as he piled the limbs and smaller loose twigs against the fence and he turned to see her across the yard talking with Mrs. Tanaka. His first impulse was to call to them, but then he thought more of the idea and let them finish. He wasn't quite ready to call attention to a matter he hadn't quite cleared with his landlady, and her simple _"No parties"_ clause in their verbal agreement for the room hadn't covered women.

He could argue that Orihime wasn't quite _woman_ in the sense that she was still mostly _schoolgirl_, but pointing that out might just be worse than letting them settle her visit on their own. After all, there was no arguing with Orihime's appearance, which no one would ever mistake for simple schoolgirl.

He glanced across the yard from the side of the small work shed, seeing Mrs. Tanaka hobbling around the apartment house, her hand to her mouth, and Orihime midway up the second flight of stairs. He threw the last of the twigs against the wall and followed.

She'd just reached the top landing of the scaffolding of staircases, right above him as Renji turned the first set of steps to the second, and the pink skirt she wore made him pause taking the next step. Not so much the skirt, he decided, as the brief glimpse of panties he got when she turned and knocked on his door above. He looked away, slowly, chiding himself a little, and continued up the stairs.

She turned as he reached the top landing, smiling immediately when she saw him. "Hi."

"Hi." He looked to the plastic wrap covered plate she had both hands wrapped around. "Selling cookies?"

She giggled, stepping back as he opened the door to his apartment. "No. I had extra, and well, I was at Urahara-san's so I brought some for Jinta and Ururu. I thought you were staying there."

He opened the door wider, nodding for her to enter. "No, not quite. I should have cleared that up yesterday."

She stepped in, her fingers tightening over the plate as she moved to the side as he entered.

She looked around the room, a little nervous for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint. She watched him pause by her, one hand on the door.

"Come in, Orihime."

She glanced from the door still open to him.

"I'll leave the door open, if you want me to," he said, watching the hesitancy flit over her face.

"Oh, oh, no," she mumbled, pulling the door closed from him with one hand. "I just, well, I've never been here, and after talking with Tanaka-san, she didn't seem too keen on me ... I ..." She smiled weakly at him.

"Did you give her a cookie?" he asked, watching her eyes light as she nodded. "Then she'll be happy."

She smiled more, looking to his hair, and then reaching up to pick a small twig from the side of his head. She held it up for him to see. "You've been in the trees?"

He took the twig. "Kind of." He glanced around the room, groaning, having visitors over the last thing on his mind that day, and then hurriedly straightened the futon cover and put the sole throw pillow in one corner of it, and then made a swipe at a few socks and a shirt that were still where he'd dropped them nearby.

"Uh, come on in, and make yourself at home," he said quickly, eyes darting around the room for other signs of extreme bachelorhood. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No. I'm fine." She slipped off her shoes and crossed the room as he headed for the bathroom off from the main room.

"I'll be right out," he called, disappearing into the small room.

"Okay."

Orihime placed the plate of cookies on the counter, looking around the room and furnishings, deciding they were typical Renji, which she figured meant adequate for the purpose they served while in the Living World. Her gaze followed his voice to the bathroom door. "Urahara-san wanted me to stop by his shop for a few questions, and he told me you were here."

Renji appeared from out the bathroom, now in a clean gray t-shirt, minus any more twigs in his hair. "Did you ask him?"

"Well, no, but he told me anyway." She frowned slightly. "He said something about cinnamon, but I didn't understand what he meant."

He looked to the cookies, nodding. "He can be that way. What did he want to see you about?" He watched her frown increase. "Unless it's personal."

"No. I don't think so."

He nodded and went into the tiny kitchen area and leaned down to the half size refrigerator and brought out a raspberry soda and a beer. He straightened, watching her lean against the small counter, her eyes traveling around the apartment before resting on him again. "Who told you he wanted to see you?"

"Kurosaki-kun."

He opened the soda and handed it to her. "When did you see him?" He twisted off the top from the beer bottle.

"Oh, this afternoon. Thanks." She indicated the soda.

He frowned at it. "Do you want that in a glass?"

"No, this is fine." She fingered the bottle, looking to him after rereading the soda label printing. "He -- they -- were heading out to the beach for a final day, before the weather turns."

He nodded, watching her eyes as she said it. "That okay with you?"

She smiled, one side of her lips raising a twitch higher. "I don't think it matters if it is or not, Renji. But he did say he was sorry he missed my birthday." She sighed in the yellow t-shirt, shrugging one shoulder. "Tatsuki called this morning. They're running in second place as a team."

"Good for them."

She nodded, sipping the soda. "Oh," she set the bottle on the counter and pulled back the plastic wrap from the plate. "I hope you're not tired of snickerdoodle."

"Not at all." He took a cookie, seeing her smile and take one also. "What did Urahara want?"

She leaned back to the counter, the coolness of the soda not quite on par with most refrigerators, the settings low. She hadn't quite decided what to make of the shopkeeper's impromptu questions, and she wasn't sure Renji could help clear them, or even if he'd want to. "He said he wanted to know more about Shun Shun Rikka."

The words seemed to catch him by as much surprise as they had her earlier. He nodded, eyes narrowing on her. "Exactly what did you tell him? What does he want to know, Orihime?"

She refused to bite at her lower lip, focusing on him instead. She took a small bite of the cookie, no more than the edge. Maybe he'd answer her. It was worth a try. "He said that they haven't been studied. No one has studied them, and he thought they should be looked into more." She took a shaky breath. "I know there's more behind it. There's always more behind what he says than what he says." She made a face at her own words. "That came out kinda clumsy."

He nodded, chuckling. "I know what you mean. Yeah, he's like that."

For a long moment she held his attention, watching him finish half the beer. She tried to keep the troubling tone from her voice. "Did something happen? Is something going on?"

When he didn't answer immediately, instead sifting through the ways he could reply, she leaned away from the counter, trying to see his face better in the oblique sunlight from the main room windows.

"Do they think I've done something, Renji?" Her words held more trepidation than she'd intended. After returning from Hueco Mundo when the War was over she'd spent two weeks being interrogated by Captain Soifon and several of the other Soul Society Gotei 13 captains, including a thorough questioning by Captain Kurotsuchi. "I answered everything I could the last time. Everything I could remember."

"I know," he said, nodding, wishing he could tell her more, alleviate what he could only imagine of her confusion. "I'm sure you did your best."

She touched her hair clip to one side, eyes still hopeful on him. "I haven't worked with them much. I haven't used them to heal, or even --"

"Urahara is just being the investigative mind that he is," he said, finishing the beer, watching her fingers play with the clip.

Her hand stopped, her eyes level on him, hoping for the truth. "Why now?"

He didn't reply, watching her for a moment. She took a deep breath and leaned back on the counter, setting the cookie she'd only nibbled on to one side behind her.

He shrugged. "It's probably just idle curiosity, Orihime."

Her gaze dropped to her hands now folded before her, fingers picking at her nails, before looking up to him again. "What do you know?"

He shook his head, handing her the soda she'd set on the counter. She took it slowly.

"You know something, don't you?" she pressed, watching him turn and reach into the refrigerator for another beer. She frowned as he opened it, the doubt crossing his face not escaping her. "What happened?"

He sighed, trying to look away from the intent hazel eyes she pinpointed on him, and found himself telling her about Grimmjow. She listened, attention fastened on his face as he explained what Ichigo and Rukia had said they'd seen and Urahara's reaction to the news. Her mouth dropped open a little, for a moment no sound coming out, and then she snapped it shut.

"Does it have anything to do with why Urahara-san wanted to know about Shun Shun Rikka?" She read the misgivings in his expression.

"The Espada are dead, all of them," he finally said. "None of them are coming back from that, Orihime. Aizen doesn't have the capabilities to resurrect anyone without Szayel Apollo, and he's gone, too. I doubt he's got much of anything left after the War."

She nodded shakily, the thoughts in her mind speeding up into a flurry of half-formed ideas she didn't want to sort through. "I'm not going back, Renji. I won't be that stupid again. It didn't accomplish anything last time and only made everything so much worse."

He frowned and set the beer on the counter, cocking his head to the side to see her face better as her head lowered. "What are you talking about? If Urahara wants to know anything about your powers it's for his own benefit. No one at Soul Society has shown any interest in questioning you since your examination before the briefing council. I would have heard something."

She nodded, trying to keep her breathing even as her thoughts ground to a conclusion. She looked to her shoulder as he put a hand there, gentle and reassuring despite the thoughts coursing through her head. She looked up at him.

"What did Urahara say?" His hand tightened on her shirt. "What kind of tests did he run on you?"

She withdrew a few inches from the inquiry in his face. "Just questions, Renji."

"No tests?"

Her eyes went to the graphic design on his shirt, frowning as she read the few words of kanji she didn't want to repeat. "No."

She waited for him to say more, waiting for him to judge her by the thoughts streaming through her head, but he just stared at her for a moment, frowning as he thought.

He did have things he wanted to say, but he didn't, couldn't see any reason to alarm her over the shopkeeper's sprawling imagination. He straightened when he realized her was hovering over her. "You don't have to agree to any tests, Orihime. He's just satisfying his own curiosity."

She nodded, and then forced a small smile. "Well, I'd like to do what I can to help, maybe it could benefit something in the future, but I don't know about testing. I've never done anything like test Ayame and Shunou's abilities before. I think the biggest test would have been ..." She thought for a moment, considering the healings she'd done through Soul Society and Hueco Mundo. She frowned at him before smiling more. "I guess it would have been Kurosaki-kun."

He nodded, thoughts souring at the mention of the substitute. She turned quickly in his hand, her shoulder moving away as she found the small clock on the wall near the futon.

"It's after six," she said, looking back to him. "I should go. Tatsuki is supposed to call me before they leave this evening to tell me how they did."

"I'll walk you home."

"Oh, you don't have to bother --"

"It's not a bother, Orihime."

Her smile widened, a faint pink touching her cheeks. "Thanks, Renji."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited this story.


	4. Robbed

Two days later the end of the school day neared like most others for Orihime. She sat at her desk, doodling on the bottom edge of her math paper, listening to Tatsuki recount her victories from the tournament over the weekend to a few other classmates, this time including Ichigo. She'd already heard the story, but listened anyway as the dark-haired girl told him, smiling at the suppressed excitement in Tatsuki's voice.

"That puts your dojo in the top four of the prefecture," another boy said from the row over at Tatsuki's desk. "The top six teams will be going to Tokyo next month."

Orihime nodded in agreement as the conversation carried on, darkening the perimeter of the jagged lines she'd drawn on the paper. She heard Ichigo's deep voice, inquiring for more details of Tatsuki's team's accomplishments. He'd missed the original account of the tournament, having been absent Monday from classes. He'd made few excuses, mentioning only that there'd been a few Hollows on the rise on the other side of town that had kept him and Rukia busy all morning.

Rukia.

Orihime leaned over the paper, her hair falling over it despite the hair pins, intent on the black pen design as the other students milled around Tatsuki and her story. Someone bumped her desk, and Orihime quickly lifted her pen so as not to malign her doodle.

"Sorry," a girl's voice said.

Orihime nodded, not looking at her. Four minutes until the end of the school bell would ring, and she was anxious to go home. Letting go had proved harder than she thought, but she was getting better at it, she hoped.

She tucked her legs under her chair and hovered over the paper to ink in the design as someone's shadow fell over her.

"What're you making, Orihime?" Tatsuki asked, her competition topic exhausted. She leaned closer to see the page.

Orihime focused on the black jagged lines she'd precisely reproduced, her pulse quickening as she recognized them. A slow smile crossed her face and she looked to Tatsuki. "Lightning bolts."

The shorter-haired girl nodded.

Orihime swiftly added pelting raindrops beneath the black marks and a stick figure of a man getting struck by the lightning.

"Are you dropping out of the Handcrafts Club?" Tatsuki asked, broaching a subject she knew her friend had been skirting lately. Her tone lowered as she crouched by Orihime's desk. "I know you haven't been going as much."

Orihime gave her a wider smile, shaking her head. "No. I'm not dropping out."

The bell rang and the classroom erupted into students making for the door, the teacher calling for an orderly departure.

"I've got practice," Tatsuki said, standing and grabbing her book bag.

Orihime looked up at her, nodding, thoughts turning inward. "Good luck. Congratulations, again."

"I'll call you later," Tatsuki said, moving down the row of desks. "Remember, the blue button plays the calls, the red one erases them."

Orihime nodded at the instructions to her phone's answering machine. She'd erased more of Tatsuki's messages than she cared to admit. She waved as the other girl left the room with a few other students.

She looked down at the stick figure. She knew what she'd drawn, the angle of the tattoos on his neck as she'd seen them as he'd leaned over her that afternoon for those brief seconds. Her fingers tensed on the pen, recalling the fleeting moment Renji had kissed her cheek, surprised at the gentle touch, unlike what she thought his lips would be like on her skin, how he smelled good. Indescribably good.

A kiss of sympathy.

_But it was still a kiss_, she told herself, as she had several times over the last few days. He didn't have to. Maybe he even regretted it now. Maybe he didn't remember the slight touch. She did.

She wished she'd used a pencil. Now the black image was permanently part of her math notes, and she couldn't pretend it was lightning bolts. She suppressed more of a smile. She didn't really want to erase it anyway. Maybe she could just recopy the notes onto another piece of paper before she had to hand them in.

"Are you staying for Handcrafts?"

This time it was Ichigo's voice, and she looked up, closing her notebook. "Oh, uh, no. Not today, Kurosaki-kun."

She stood and gathered her books and stuffed into her book bag, watching him step back to give her room.

He was about to say more when they both felt the influx of spiritual pressure, and looked to the wide set of windows lining the classroom exterior wall to see Rukia standing in the sunny schoolyard.

By the time Orihime and Ichigo met the petite shinigami the other students had vacated the yard and begun their walks home. Rukia looked to each of them, her violet eyes troubled.

"Two Division Thirteen members are seriously injured. One dead, for certain," she said, eyes going to Orihime. "The other is nearly dead. They're at Urahara's shop."

"Let's go," Ichigo said, taking Orihime's book bag from her and slinging it over his own shoulder so she could move faster.

The hurried down the street, taking the corner swiftly as Rukia easily kept pace beside them, detailing the encounter.

"You should have told me," Ichigo bit at her, his long strides outdistancing Orihime's attempt to keep up with him and the female shinigami.

"Hey, you were in class, and by the time we found out about it the damage was done," Rukia said. "It should have been under control; there was no problems reported until the Hollow had been killed, and then something else happened."

Orihime tried to speed up, the afternoon wearing warm on them as they rounded the last set of streets to Urahara's shop. "They weren't injured by the Hollow?"

Rukia glanced back at her, her expression grim. "We don't think so. They were new to the Division, and this was they're third mission without a seated officer."

They arrived at the shop and were escorted quickly in by Tessai, and then down the hall to a back room where Renji and Urahara stood outside a closed door.

"Ah, so good to see you, Orihime," Urahara said, nodding to her. "Thanks for bringing her, Rukia."

"What's this all about?" Ichigo asked, looking from Urahara to Renji and back again. He set her book bag against the wall. "They weren't injured by a Hollow?"

"We don't think so," Renji said, also in his shinigami robes. "There was no sign of it when we got there."

"Just an emergency call for back-up, and then nothing but the wounded," Rukia said, her voice tightening as she looked to the door.

Orihime looked to Renji, who was watching her, and then to Urahara as he put a hand to the door latch. "What can I do to help?"

Urahara nodded. "Just what I was hoping you'd say." He opened the door, stepping aside as she passed by Ichigo. "He's bad off, and the other younger is dead, but maybe you can help."

She nodded and stepped into the room.

Urahara closed the door behind her, even as Ichigo took a step towards it. Ichigo looked at him sharply, his hand going to the latch.

"She doesn't need us all in there breathing down her back, Ichigo," the shopkeeper said as the front shop door tinkled. "Let her be."

"He's right," Rukia said, sighing and leaning against the opposite wall. "He's bad off, and she needs to concentrate."

Ichigo frowned at Urahara before looking to Renji. "You didn't see anything?"

Renji shook his head, shooting a look at Urahara. "When we got there we found two from Division Thirteen, very young, just out of the academy. Both dead --"

"Not quite," Urahara corrected.

"He's right," Rukia said. "Only one was dead, the other died once we got here."

Ichigo's scowl increased, but it was Renji that turned to Urahara. "Then why are you having her heal a corpse?"

Ichigo turned the latch and opened the door before Urahara could stop him, exposing a brief glimpse into the dimly lit room where Orihime knelt before a form lying on a matt on the floor, its shinigami robes white, a gaping wound in its chest.

Urahara pulled the door shut and placed one hand on Ichigo's uniform shirt, pushing him away.

Ichigo had turned a strange shade of pale that snapped into an instant darker color. "Sapped of their spiritual powers? You didn't say anything about that." He looked to Rukia and then Renji. "No one did. What's going on?"

Rukia tugged on his arm. "Come on. I'll tell you what we know."

Ichigo reluctantly left with her down the hall to a storage room further on. Renji watched them go, and then looked to Urahara still lodged at the door.

"You know she can't help, Urahara."

The shopkeeper shook his head, eyes hidden beneath the hat brim. "I don't know that, and neither do you."

Renji stepped toward him and the door, but Urahara propped his cane on the opposite doorframe.

"Let's just see what she _can_ do, Abarai."

"Are you behind these deaths?" Renji couldn't believe his own next question. "Did you do this so you can run some psychotic experiment --"

"Rob a shinigami of his spiritual powers, lieutenant?" There was no humor in Urahara's tone. "Shame on you. That's a corporal offense in any society."

Renji glared at him for a moment, unable to see past the shopkeeper's slight smirk that had dropped back into place. He closed a hand around the cane and pushed it aside, opening the door, surprised when Urahara made no move to stop him.

"Don't disturb anything, Renji," he said lightly.

Renji took a few steps into the semi-lit room. Orihime was still sitting on her knees beside the white-robed form, her hands at her skirt hem, head hanging as her cheeks shown faintly with tears. She looked to the door as it remained open and then turned away, wiping her face hurriedly with the back of her hand.

Urahara pushed past Renji and stood beside Orihime, looking down at the large red wound on the young shinigami's chest. "Ah, you've done your best, Orihime. Let it go now."

She sniffed, eyes resting on the dead member of Division Thirteen. "I think he might have been dead already, Urahara-san. He didn't respond at all."

He nodded, glancing to Renji still at the door. "Don't let Kurosaki in."

It only made Renji want to let the substitute in all the more. "Why not?"

Urahara didn't answer, but bent to take Orihime's elbow and raise her to her feet. "You're done. You tried. Sometimes it's too much."

She nodded, smoothing her skirt and wiping her face. "I'm sorry."

Renji watched her turn her back to both him and Urahara to compose herself, her low sniffles the only sound in the room. He looked back to the hall as Rukia and Ichigo appeared there.

"Wait outside, Ichigo," Urahara said, putting a hand to Orihime's shoulder as he ushered her out.

Renji let them pass, his eyes going back to the two dead shinigami, their white robes seeming eerily bright in the muted light of the room. The rest of the room was bare, save for a glass container the size of a small flower vase holding what appeared to be oil decanter reeds. But he smelled nothing, save the faint scent of something floral when Orihime had passed him. He joined them in the hall.

Rukia was the first to speak as Renji closed the door behind them, her eyes remaining on the door. "I'll contact Captain Ukitake. They were only probationaries. It should have been a simple mission." She looked Renji. "Help me take them back?"

He nodded and had begun to speak as Urahara cut in.

"I'd like permission to examine the bodies, Rukia," he said, anticipating the reaction from her and the men. Before anyone could speak, he added: "Nothing invasive. Just a routine examination that wouldn't interfere with anything Captain Unohana would do."

"No," Ichigo said immediately, but Rukia put a hand on his arm.

"I'll ask, Urahara," she said, "but I can't guarantee anything. I'm not a seated officer. My request won't carry the weight a lieutenant's would."

Renji saw Orihime lean against the hall wall, a drained look on her face, hair hanging limply despite the hair pins to either side of her face.

"Do what you can, Rukia," Urahara said, the cane tapping lightly at his feet as he looked to Ichigo. "Take Miss Orihime home, Ichigo. We certainly appreciate her efforts this afternoon."

Ichigo frowned, but nodded. He turned to Orihime, who looked up to him without her usual bright smile. "It couldn't be helped, Orihime."

She nodded.

After Orihime and Ichigo left, Urahara turned to Rukia and repeated his request of permission for the examination. She agreed, and left immediately for Soul Society, leaving the shopkeeper with Renji.

Urahara tipped his hat back a few inches, estimating the regard on the shinigami's face. "I'm a man of my word, Abarai."

Renji kept his stare levelly. "When you choose to be, Urahara."

The shopkeeper sighed and went back into the room. "I've no ill intentions to the girl or any shinigami."

Renji followed him and paused at the dead man, the deep wound in his chest still gaping. "Why didn't you want Kurosaki in here?" He moved his scabbard to one side and knelt at the corpse, frowning at the fist-sized hole in him. It was a young member of Division Thirteen, young even by shinigami standards, his face nearly as white as his robe. "Not for sentimental reasons."

Urahara had crossed the room and now stooped near the wall at the glass with the reeds protruding from the top opening. "No." He pulled a black plastic bag from his robe pocket, and carefully opened it over the top of the glass and reeds, covering it and twisting the bag around the neck of the glass. "I don't want his reiatsu contaminating anything I've gathered."

Renji stood and pivoted to look at him, taking a quick step as Urahara got to his feet and held the bag-covered glass behind him.

"So this is an experiment!"

"No, don't alarm yourself, lieutenant," Urahara said hastily, his smile askew. "I'm merely taking advantage of the situation to collect a sample of her healing powers. Nothing more."

Renji frowned at him, eyes narrowing on the man under the hat. "Without her consent. That's beyond --"

"Your concern, number one," Urahara finished, his voice holding less amusement. "Number two, she's said herself on many occasions she'd do anything she could to help. She's always offered to help. That's what she's doing." He took a step back and held up a hand as Renji advanced. "He was alive when we called her. She tried. I didn't ask her to exhaust herself, Abarai. I wouldn't do that."

Renji looked to the arm behind Urahara's back. "Is that all? You didn't take anything else?"

"Of course not."

"Then you won't mind telling her what you've done, will you?" He saw the flicker of discomposure hint the man's expression. "Will you?"

Urahara smiled, shrugging a little as he moved past him. "Since you insist..."

"What about the rest of us? What about Rukia and me?" Renji asked, following the shopkeeper out of the room, who now cradled the bag and bottle before him as he moved down the hall.

"Oh, I have Rukia-chan's reiatsu already mapped from previous times." Urahara turned and held up a finger. "With her consent, so you can put away that threatening look, Renji." He turned back down the hall. "And your reiatsu, too. Enough of it for a decent analysis from the gigai you've been using, so I can rule out yours and Rukia's."

"But not Kurosaki. Seems to me you should have buckets on him."

Urahara stopped at the end of the hall before the curtains that divided the back of the shop from the main public room beyond. He looked to Renji, shrugging. "Ichigo hasn't been mapped since the War. He's changed." Wistfulness lent his tone. "I'll get to him in time. With his consent, lieutenant."

Renji still didn't like it. "You should have told her."

Urahara shrugged, grinning more than he should have. "It only would have distracted her from the matter at hand. This was better than any test I could have arranged." His grin fell as a darker look crossed Renji's face. "She's admitted she can't remember everything from her time in Aizen's keep. She may be capable of more than even she knows."

Renji's first response was replaced by another thought. "How do you know that?" He put a hand to his sword's hilt, seeing Urahara's eyes drop to the movement. "You don't have access to those records."

"Ah, no, not exactly, but I do have a certain understanding with like minds in the Soul Society hierarchy," he said, his light tone belying the impact of his words. "War makes for strange bedfellows, Renji."

Renji turned back down the hall leading to the shop's rear entrance, unsure how angry or not he was with the shopkeeper, snagging Orihime's forgotten book bag from the hall as he went.

"That's from Shakespeare, if you're wondering, Abarai!" he called.

"Shut up!"

* * *

Renji had every intention of depositing the bag in Orihime's window as he hovered outside, but the more he thought about it he realized an action like that was liable to make her scream in fright before she realized it was him, and then it would have been plain rude.

He found himself standing in the hall outside her apartment door in the early evening hour, looking at the door, accosted by some pop music tune from her neighbor's apartment as he debated knocking, debating the chances of Kurosaki still being there, debating what to tell her about Urahara's test, if anything.

He knew what he wasn't going to tell her, like about the hole made in each of the shinigami -- she knew about those injuries -- but she wouldn't know that a portion of vertebrae had been jerked clean out through the cavity, or that the incoming distress call that sent him and Rukia to the scene had mentioned another miniscule spiritual presence aside from the Hollow, one that neither of the victims could recognize. They were some of the worst injuries he'd seen since the end of the War.

He knew several reasons why the novice shinigami wouldn't recognize Arrancar presence; none had ever encountered it. It didn't mean it was, or was not, Arrancar. It certainly didn't mean it was a once-dead Espada. There was no need to mention any of that to Orihime.

As he stood in the hall, wondering whether or not to knock and have her neighbors think she was talking to herself in the hall, which may likely be a common sight, or to just leave the bag by her door, it opened and she looked out at the few inches the lock chain allowed. This time she looked almost relieved to see him.

The door closed enough to unfasten the chain, and then she opened it wide, motioning him in silently as she looked to the apartment door across the hall.

Renji stepped in and watched her close the door. Her eyes were a little redder than before, and she was still in her school uniform, the bow untied and hanging loose about her collar.

"Oh, you didn't have to bring that; I'd have gotten it tomorrow," she said, taking the bag he held out to her.

"You had a lot on your mind." He watched her pull the bag close, attempting a smile as she looked up to him. "Don't feel bad about earlier. He was in bad shape." He wanted to say already dead, but he stopped himself. _See if Urahara is a man of his word,_ he thought.

"I should've practiced more with them," she said more to herself, turning into the room and stowing the bag by the futon. "I haven't done much with them since the War."

"Everyone has let their guard relax. There's no reason you should stay at peak; go back to your life, Orihime. It was never your war."

To his surprise, a determined set came to her eyes, sharpening their focus on him. "I made it easier, Renji. That's bad enough."

He shook his head. "It would have started anyway." She sighed and looked to the kitchen area, one hand sliding up her opposite arm as she sighed. "You all right?"

She nodded, looking to him quickly. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I just wanted to drop that off."

She nodded more slowly, eyes remaining on him as she pushed a hand through her hair, hesitant as to her next words. "He was already dead, wasn't he?"

He intended to say he didn't know for sure, but instead he nodded. She closed her eyes and sighed, her voice barely audible when she spoke.

"What did that to them?"

He shrugged, hearing the pop tune in the next apartment change to another equally bouncy song. "We don't know yet."

She swallowed forcefully, looking to him. "Is it him? Can it really be Grimmjow?"

"I don't see how, but I believe what Rukia and Ichigo say."

"Is none of it over, Renji?" Her voice broke as she said it and she cleared her throat, fingers going back to her arm, tightening. "It can't all just start over again, can it?"

He closed the few feet of distance between them, one hand going to her shoulder, resting gently beneath the waves of auburn hair laying over it. Her hand stopped on her arm, eyes locked on his.

"Everything Aizen had built is destroyed," he said carefully. "This is probably some new version of Hollow; nothing more."

"But what of Grimmjow?"

He shook his head, fingers moving behind her neck. "I don't see how it can be him." He watched her hand move to his arm, fingertips edging toward his wrist, pausing on the back of his hand. "Aizen has his illusions, you know."

She nodded, her head tilting slightly toward his hand. "You're right."

The phone rang from the table at the futon, startling them both, her hand dropping. He moved his hand as she glanced at the phone.

"That's probably Tatsuki," she said, sighing, looking back to him.

He stood straighter and nodded. "I'll go. Glad you're all right, Orihime."

She smiled wider, a tint of pink at her cheeks. "Thanks."

He left then, and she closed the door behind him and quickly answered the phone on its fourth ring.

Renji alighted to the top of the four story building and looked out over the town, several thoughts chasing through his mind, not the least of which was the softness of Orihime's hair or Tatsuki's ill-timed phone call, finding himself more disappointed in the latter than he thought he should be.

_Too much time in a gigai,_ he tried to excuse to himself. It wasn't the scent of peachy flowers that hung around her, of her fingers gentle on his hand, or the way they curled across his skin in beckoning touch, or the appeal in her eyes despite the signs of earlier tears.

It wasn't any of that.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed and offered corrections.


	5. Evening Odds

Orihime passed on the Handcrafts Club the next few days. She felt guilty about it, but she wasn't the only one whose interest was dimmed in the trio of dresses they were making for the fall festival competition. She'd noticed Uryuu's absences more frequently after school, his usually quiet nature even more somber lately. He wasn't particularly moody, she decided as she gathered her books and bag together after class had let out for the day. He'd been less outgoing since the War had ended, and he wasn't telling anyone why.

"Will you be there tomorrow?" he asked as she arranged her school books in the bag, standing at his desk two rows away.

She nodded, returning a smile to his pensive look. "Are you?"

"Yes, tomorrow." He looked back to where Kon was possessing Ichigo's body, sending a derisive scowl to the stand-in. His attention turned back to Orihime. "Are you finished with the beading?"

"Almost," she said, pulling the bag strap over her shoulder, untucking her hair from under it. She hoped her next words wouldn't sound intrusive, but she really wanted to know, believing it to be the reason for his dour moods the past months. "How is Dr. Ishida?"

Uryuu's eyes narrowed behind his glasses, darting away from her to his own books in his arm. "He's well, thank you, Inoue-san. He's very dedicated to his work, and a good example of what I should aspire to."

She frowned as he said it. He'd said similar things before, and more often now, and every time he did it seemed to take something out of him. Something Quincy out of him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ishida-san," she said as he moved through the rows of desks.

"Bye, Inoue-san."

He left out the classroom, and she sighed, hitching her bag strap higher over her shoulder as she followed out the door. She'd only taken a few steps into the hall when Kon caught up to her.

"Hi, Inoue-san," he said, putting a lax, goofy smile on Ichigo's face.

"Hi." She moved quicker down the hall as he sped up to her.

"Ichigo's been gone a lot, and Nee-san is gone too much, too," he said, his steps jaunty when compared to Ichigo's.

She didn't like when Kon accompanied her at school, which he was apt to do whenever he had the chance. He wasn't opportunistically grabby like he used to be, but he did have a tendency to bump into her shoulder and knock her with his elbow when he scratched his head, which he did a lot.

"They're busy with Soul Society matters," she said, refusing to call him any name at all as they moved down the hall and out the building into the late summer's warm day. She turned onto the sidewalk and walked quicker as he easily set pace with her.

"I could walk you home, Inoue-san," he said with another grin.

"Tatsuki's coming over for dinner tonight, so I have to get my schoolwork done early. But thank you anyway." She smiled hopefully, pulling her bag from her shoulder and hugging it to her chest as his gaze settled on her with more interest.

"Oh? Dinner? That would be nice. Maybe you could have enough for two guests? I wouldn't eat much," he added, his shoulder bumping her temple.

She laughed nervously. "Maybe another time, okay?"

"Oh? When?"

She shook her head, feeling a sudden coldness on her back. "Not today."

"Tomorrow?"

The coldness seemed to be underneath her skin, and Orihime turned to look behind her. Nothing. She paused walking, feeling the chill on her back still despite the new direction. Her eyes moved over the sidewalk and street, seeing nothing amiss, no one else looking at her, the other students on the walk going about their usual chatter.

"No," she said to Kon's question about dinner. She turned back to face forward, her steps quickening, fingers tightening over her books.

He continued to try to make plans with her as they walked on, his tone varying from inquisitive to slyly suggestive to pleading.

"But I want to walk you home," he insisted when she turned and backed away from him at the corner leading to the street her apartment was on.

"That's okay," she said, smiling and waving him away. "I'm fine."

"But I don't mind."

She shook her head, holding up a hand as she backtracked, a painful smile forced onto her face. She hated what Kon did to Ichigo's body when he was in it, making facial contortions severely out of place, saying things that would get Ichigo slapped, proving to her how much it was _Ichigo_ that made _Ichigo_ himself and not merely his physical appearance.

"Not today. Bye!" She turned and all but sprinted down the sidewalk. To her relief Kon took the hint and remained at the corner.

By the time she got home her heart was pounding, and not from the run or Kon's attentions. She was warm from the jog and the day's weather, but her spine was cold still. Not as cold as it had been, she decided as she deposited her books in her small bedroom on the bed, but not warm as she knew she should be.

She stood to the corner of her room where she wasn't visible from the window to the street and changed out of her uniform and into a pink knit top and lavender skirt with small white flowers on it. She pulled her hair out of the collar, listening to the pop music from the next apartment. It had taken a while to get used to the nearly twenty-four hour a day music spree her neighbor was on, but fortunately it wasn't too loud, and at least it was a genre of music she could appreciate. Most of the time. Some of the tunes were catchy, and she'd begun to listen to the station on her own radio near the futon in her living room.

"It's just a stray breeze that followed me home," she said to no one, trying to dismiss the chill. "That's all."

She hugged her arms across her chest, hoping a quick shiver would dispel the cold at her back. After a few moments it did, and she breathed easier.

She went back into the living room and then to the kitchenette and glanced at the clock. She had enough time for schoolwork before she had to call in dinner for her and Tatsuki. It would be a little late for dinner on a school night, but Tatsuki was having extended karate practices, and Orihime was willing to take the wait if it meant having someone to eat dinner with.

For a few moments she sang along slightly out of key with the music from the next apartment, and then plopped onto her stomach on the futon to tune her own radio to the pop station. It took a moment of fine tuning the station, and by then the song was almost over, and then there was a timid knock on the door.

She stood up quickly, alert eyes on the door, thoughts volleying between Kon and anyone else it could be. Tatsuki didn't have timid knocks.

She went to the door and stood at it for a moment, making sure the chain was across the door to the doorframe. She sensed nothing; not Ichigo, not Renji, whom she had shocked herself by identifying when he'd returned her book bag a few days before. She unlocked the door and opened it a few inches, and looked with surprise at Ururu.

The little dark-haired girl looked up at her with soulful eyes. "Hello, Miss Inoue-san."

* * *

Across town other high schools had let out classes for the day and the students were taking their walks home. At one large school the sidewalks were packed, boys and girls shifting amongst each other in pent up energy coupled with the mourning of the end of summer. None were aware of the two figures dressed in junior high schoolgirl uniforms on top the building overlooking the school grounds.

From their vantage height, Loly's pink eyes darted with rabid eagerness from student to student below, crouched at the building's edge, her half-mask hiding part of her vindictive study of the students. Her gray skirt was one she'd taken from the dead schoolgirl the week before, the white blouse unbuttoned but tied between her breasts, the untied pink bowtie loose and hanging from the blouse collar around her neck, tangled at times with her long black ponytails. Her stare zeroed in on a particular girl with large breasts that was walking with another girl at ground level. Loly frowned, trying to remember exactly what her enemy looked like.

"They can see right up your skirt," Menoly said from where she stood behind the black-haired girl. She leaned against the smoke stack of the building's sixth floor roof. "You should have taken her shorts, too, bonehead."

"Shut up," Loly snapped, glaring at the girl below in the schoolyard.

Menoly sighed. She was outfitted with a similar uniform, except she'd ripped the short sleeves off her blouse, and buttoned and tucked the blouse's hem into her skirt, and retied her pink bowtie at her throat, covering most of her bone choker. "They weren't even worth killing," she said without any emotion, looking at her fingernails, green eyes going back to the other girl momentarily. "Not for the amount of spiritual power we got from them. Not even for decent clothes," she muttered.

"It's better than what we had." Loly's eyes narrowed on the girl as she studied her in the schoolyard, watching her laugh with the other student. "It's better than walking around naked."

"No one can see us," Menoly reminded her.

"Those junior high girls did," Loly said, growling a little as she realized the girl below was not the one she was looking for.

"The last thing they saw," Menoly added.

Loly sighed and hopped down from the buildings edge and joined Menoly, crossing her arms as she stared at her.

"This is worse than being an Arrancar, even at the bottom under the Espada," Loly said for the fifth time that afternoon. "What's the sense of surviving the War if we're powerless?"

"We're not powerless," Menoly told her. "So it's starting over. At least we're alive."

Loly cackled at this. "And always will be, thanks to that monster. And it puts us up there with _him_. That should count for something," she muttered, thoughts turning to whom they always did.

Menoly knew the look on Loly's face. "Yeah, well it isn't going to matter if you don't collect enough spiritual power to pull anything more than a low cero. You want to sit princess at the top of the ladder you better prove yourself." She grinned with maniacal enthusiasm. "I want to see him fall, Loly. I want to see him lower than Six, lower than Ten, lower than any of us."

Loly had little appreciation for her colleague's aspirations, and the feeling was mutual most of the time, but they'd found they were stronger working together. "We can bury him if you want, but I want to sit alongside Aizen-sama." A licentious sneer curved her lips. "I want to be princess of this Realm. Not that idiot Living girl."

Menoly rolled her eyes, blowing a short blue strand of hair out of her face. "Aizen-sama hasn't said he wants her back. We're only here --"

"I want to make sure she _can't_ come back!" Loly spat. "She can't heal herself! Then we can build up our own powers. _Then_ you can bury Grimmjow."

Menoly didn't like to hear the name aloud, not when she wasn't the one saying it. He was the only one who posed a real threat to their achieving the top echelon of the surviving Arrancars, and with him gone, Aizen had little choice than to place them highest.

"I'll rip her apart, Menoly," the black-haired girl promised. "I'll pull out her eyes and deliver them to ... that ..." She ended in a screech, hands balled into fists. "If I could remember the name of that wretched bastard with the orange hair! I'd send her eyes to him!"

Menoly laughed shrilly, nodding to the tanto tucked in a small holster at the other girl's skirt waist. "Not with just a poisoned pin you won't."

Loly put her hands on her hips and looked back across the town's buildings. "Come on. You know Grimmjow's not loitering around killing time."

Menoly stiffened at the name. "No. Not killing _time_."

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Renji returned from delivering the two members of Thirteenth Division to their squad compound in Soul Society. Captain Ukitake had declined Urahara's request, something Renji wholeheartedly agreed with, and had sent word back via Rukia earlier that he wanted all his troops returned without examination, should the circumstances arise.

The decision surprised Renji. Captain Ukitake wasn't noted for being one of the more inflexible captains, but something about the nature of Urahara's request had struck him as alarming or at least jarringly unorthodox, and it rattled a nerve in him. He wasn't the only captain to feel that way, but there were others among the Gotei 13 that held other views.

With permission, Captain Kurotsuchi had dispatched four members from Division Twelve to the Living World to hunt out Hollows. Four newly appointed probationaries with little Hollow fighting experience, Renji had discovered. Captain Kurotsuchi had also sent a message to Urahara that Renji was not privy to, but he could imagine what it contained.

_Like minds,_ he reminded himself as he changed back into his gigai in his apartment neighboring Urahara's shop.

"Damn nuisance," he muttered as he retied the unsettled head rag around his hair. "Worse than the old ones to get into and out of." It wasn't the only problem with the newer gigai models. They were more flexible, faster to move around in in human form, but they dulled the spiritual senses, making low presence lower, making him focus all the more on any minute fluctuations in the spiritual fields around him.

From the second floor apartment below his came a woman's voice singing enka music, willowy strands that were played on the loud side by Mrs. Tanaka. She'd shared the apartment with her husband of thirty-two years, Renji had learned, and kept it after his death despite the flight of stairs it demanded for entry. It was always enka or traditional folk music, and he didn't mind it so much after the first week, and was starting to be able to tell the songs apart. The volume, however, occasionally got on his nerves.

A thumping sound came from his bedroom on the Urahara side of the apartment, and Renji left the small bathroom to go into the nearly as small bedroom across from it. Another thump came, and he looked out the narrow window that faced Urahara's shop.

Thirty feet away he saw Jinta sitting atop the bamboo fence, a rock in each hand. Another rock hit the wall near the open window.

"Hey, I'm right here! I see you, Jinta!" he yelled to the boy. Another rock hit. "Cut it out!"

Jinta screwed his face into a scowl. "You wanted to know when she's here."

"I'll be right there."

Renji left the third floor apartment by the wooden staircases that switch-backed at the rear of the apartment house and went around the fence to the sidewalk and through the back door of Urahara's shop, where he was confronted by a surely Jinta.

The boy stuck his hand out, barring Renji's passage down the back hall. "You owe me."

"Yeah, yeah." Renji found a wad of yen notes in his pocket and gave the boy two. "Get an ice cream for Ururu, too."

"That wasn't part of the deal," the boy said curtly, pocketing the money.

"It is now," Renji told him as Ururu suddenly emerged from a corner doorway along the hall. "See? She's ready."

Jinta shot the girl a look and sprung out the back door. Ururu gave Renji a small bow and dashed out to catch up with the boy.

Renji made his way down the back of the shop, hearing Urahara's low easy-going tone from one of the back rooms, a sound that was beginning to make him wary of the shopkeeper. Especially since his request had been denied by Captain Ukitake and Captain Kurotsuchi had dispatched several members of his division.

He looked in the half open doorway of what Urahara called an office, which was more cluttered storeroom than anything else. A small desk loaded with the paperwork, the most important mostly likely buried at the bottom, a stack of defunct gigais in one corner looking more like an obscure orgy of corpses half covered by a tarp, shelves lining the walls in opaque jars with no labels -- in wasn't an welcoming room, and Renji wondered how the man could invite anyone into it without warning.

But there sat Orihime in a chair before the desk with Urahara behind it, both in conversation. Renji remained at the doorway, for a moment watching her nod at something the shopkeeper said, her posture erect as she listened, voice soft and low.

Far too _compassionate_ to have witnessed some of the things he knew she had in Hueco Mundo, he thought.

Urahara looked up to see him, and sat back a bit from the desk, the light from the ceiling fixture shaded more by the brim of his hat. Renji leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and remaining silent.

Urahara decided to acknowledge him. "As I was telling Miss Inoue here, Renji," he said drawlingly, "I appreciate her contribution to our cause, and would like to study Shun Shun Rikka in-depth."

Orihime turned to see Renji in the doorway. She smiled a bit, but her expression belied her apprehension at the topic before her. He nodded and she turned back to Urahara.

"Yours is a unique power, Orihime, as I am sure you know," the shopkeeper continued, "and _with_ your permission, I'd like a closer look at it."

"How much closer?" she asked, her fingers automatically going to the hairpin at one temple.

Urahara smiled, resisting the temptation to reach for the fan on top one of the lower stacks of paper before him. "As I understand it, you've three distinct powers. One for healing, another for protecting. With limited fighting, however."

She nodded, hand still at her hair. "I don't know, Urahara-san. I've never been apart from them, and they mean a lot to me."

"Of course they do."

"They're all I have left from my brother."

He nodded. "Their power lies within you, not in the physical hairpins themselves, Orihime," he said gently, leaning over the table more, not looking to Renji as he watched from the doorway. "I think this would be a study in an observatory capacity, not actual lab work."

She nodded slowly, hand dropping from her hair into her lap where its fingers laced together with the other hand. "I, I'd like to think about it, Urahara-san."

The answer surprised him, making his eyes open wider at her hesitancy. "Oh? Well, of course we wouldn't be able to do much studying anyway, not without a reason to be healing, would we now?"

She nodded slightly.

"Then how about we wait until the need arises?" His gaze shifted to Renji, his grin crooking one corner of his mouth. "How about I send Lieutenant Abarai around to you if the occasion arises that we need a healer? How's that?"

"Oh, uh, well ..." Her fingers tightened on each other.

"You don't have to say yes," Renji reminded her, eyes on the shopkeeper.

She nodded, glancing to him before turning again to Urahara. "I suppose that would be all right. If you were to observe while I healed."

"Nothing to make you nervous," Urahara added.

She nodded.

"Tell him you'll think about it," Renji suggested, watching her posture slouch.

Urahara sighed. "Very well, Miss Inoue. I'll await your answer. Soon?"

She nodded, sitting straighter, working up a small smile. "Soon, Urahara-san."

Orihime breathed easier as she left Urahara's shop, not so much because of what the man had asked of her, but partly from what she could sense of Renji's suspicions about the proposition and partly from the idea of anyone wanting to pay attention to Tsubaki. The male spirit certainly would not like it one bit, and she wasn't sure how he could be studied at all.

She looked up to Renji still at her side, relieved she had someone to sound off about Urahara's request. Since they'd left the shop a block away he'd let her talk, and all she'd managed so far was musings on Tsubaki. After exhausting the male spirit's probable take on the issue, she sighed and wanted another opinion.

"What do you think, Renji?"

He looked down at her, seeing more than the usual inquisitiveness in her eyes. This time there was a vulnerability he'd seen only a few times in her. "He told you about the other two shinigami deaths?"

She nodded, looking back down at her steps as they passed a section of broken sidewalk. "He admitted the man was dead, and that he took a sample," she frowned, "of my healing powers. I don't see how that can be sampled."

"He's got his ways, I guess."

"He apologized for not asking my permission." She put her hands behind her back and took a deep breath. "I didn't like that he took that test sample without telling me, but I guess its okay."

"I would be easiest to observe your healing powers, if the situation arose, but the others, those would be more demanding. I don't think they could be arranged," he said honestly.

They passed a section of apartments and neither spoke until they'd reached her building. They stopped and he looked up at the window that he knew to be hers, the center of her three windows that overlooked the sidewalk. When his attention went back to her she was watching him intently, the toes of her shoes nudging toward each other, fidgeting.

"Tatsuki's coming over soon for dinner," she said, bracing herself for her next query. "Would you like to come in? Stay for dinner?"

"Sounds like you've got enough company," he said, unsure how much of her invitation was gracious and how much her newfound nervousness over Urahara's proposition.

She took a deep breath, smiling a little. "I wouldn't mind."

He grinned at the subtle flash that caught her eyes, enough to nearly make him change his mind. "Your friend might."

She shook her head, fighting a bit of a blush. "Maybe another time?"

"Definitely another time, Orihime."

She smiled. "Good." She nodded and opened the door to the apartment building. "Bye, Renji."

He turned down the sidewalk after she'd gone in. Definitely another time.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to all who reviewed and favorited this story.


	6. Contact

Orihime thought a lot about what Urahara had proposed that day over the next week. She wanted to help, had already decided to help, but she wanted it to be on her terms. Actually, on Tsubaki's terms, more accurately.

The male spirit had had several long talks with her over the matter, waking her up at all hours of the night and even invading one of her exams in school. She'd had to draw the line there, threatening to treat him like a winged insect if he got her into trouble for appearing to cheat during the test.

She paused at the edge of the school sidewalk that sunny afternoon to pull up her socks, stooping as she did, eyes on the perimeter of the school. Ichigo had gone missing from class a few times that week, and although he returned unharmed and without Rukia, Orihime knew the female shinigami was there. She could sense her now, not on her own, but whenever Ichigo returned from his absences. Something about the dark-haired woman hung about him, and Orihime knew what it was. That connection, his nearness to her that lingered.

It had made letting go all the more difficult.

But Orihime hadn't been alone in ignoring the residual feelings she had for him. Tatsuki had figured it out and become a regular dinner guest when she didn't have practice, but that was becoming rarer with her extended sessions at the dojo. Master Takazawa had been making the rounds to all the teams eligible for the grand tournament in Tokyo the next month and spending time with each for specialized practices.

Renji had stopped by her apartment once, too, giving the reason as asking for her answer to Urahara, but also telling her she needn't give one if she didn't have one yet. He hadn't stayed more than a few moments, but convinced her to give the matter another few days of thought. She agreed to, and he'd left.

Orihime stood up from her socks and smoothed her beige sweater vest over her waist as Tatsuki handed back her book bag. Tatsuki had been there when Renji stopped by, and she'd had questions. Orihime hadn't answered as fully as she knew her friend wanted, but she promised she'd clear it up. Eventually.

"If it's got to do with Urahara-san, watch yourself," Tatsuki said as they followed the other students out of the schoolyard. Her dark eyes shifted between the boys roughhousing with each other near the sidewalk at the street. "I guess Abarai-san would tell you if it was something you shouldn't do. Urahara-san said they didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on some things."

Orihime nodded, thinking back on her friend's time spent training with the shopkeeper. She and Keigo hadn't trained as completely as either had wanted to, as the War had ended, and school had resumed, and now Keigo had been transferred to another high school. Karakura Civil High School hadn't been the same without him.

"Urahara-san is nice, just inquisitive," she excused as they joined the sidewalk traffic, wishing she believed that as wholeheartedly as she said it. She smiled, hoping to add credence to her words. "I think Renji and him just butt heads a little. Nothing serious."

Tatsuki's head jerked around to her friend, lifting an eyebrow. "_Renji_ now, is it?"

Orihime fought off a blush and shrugged, her smile deepening. "I _have_ known him for a year and a half, Tatsuki. It was his idea."

Tatsuki nodded as they crossed the street with the other students. "Yeah, but it's still Kurosaki-kun, huh?"

Orihime laughed a little, sighing and looking to the sidewalk ahead. "Have you got time to take the market street? I want to get a squash for soup tomorrow."

Tatuski made a face. "Yeah, but we've got to hurry. Master Takazawa allows no tardies."

Orihime nodded and they hastened their steps, her arms wrapped around her book bag. She clutched it closer as a chill caught her spine. She didn't look behind her this time, or even pause, but continued on. "Are you cold, Tatsuki?"

The other girl shook her head, eyeing the sleeveless sweater vest her friend wore. "I can't believe you're wearing a sweater already, Orihime. It's barely into September. Are you cold?"

Orihime frowned as they wove among the other students. "I was earlier this morning, and just now ..." She forced a smile to her lips. "Just a chill. That's all."

She refused to look behind her, but her attention went to the other side of the street. The residential area dissolved into a row of shops, most of the student traffic falling away as classmates found their separate ways home, and the afternoon workshift foot traffic began. It was only her and Tatsuki and a few students by the time they reached the green grocer shop farther on, the rest older adults and office workers. Orihime's eyes stayed on an alley across the street from them as she slung her book bag over her shoulder at the grocer's entrance.

It was just an alley, nothing different about it, a few garbage cans and cats dotting it, the end of it blocked from view by wooden crates and stacked pallets.

Nothing to see, she told herself as she turned and followed Tatsuki inside the green grocer's shop. The store was filled with early fall produce, ranging from melons to squash and pumpkin, to late-bearing eggplant and peppers, and Orihime had to make a determined effort to only get the butternut squash she'd planned to buy, knowing Tatsuki was in a hurry to get to practice.

But when they stepped back out onto the sidewalk, she felt the chill more intensely. She stopped a few feet onto the sidewalk, what should have been a soft late summer breeze on her face seeming sharply cold on her back. She paused, looking across the street at the alley.

Tatsuki followed her gaze, eyes moving along the opposite sidewalk now crowded with people. "What do you see, 'Hime?"

Orihime's eyes narrowed, searching the alley and then the crowd. "Nothing." She took a few steps as Tatsuki fell into step with her. "Just looking."

They continued on, the feeling still creeping beneath her sweater vest, beneath her blouse, inching up her spine until Orihime couldn't ignore it. She looked to the sidewalk across the street, feeling she should see a figure from her past among the crowd.

"... for the Olympics three years ago, so it's kinda a big deal," Tatsuki was saying, "and with the Korean tae kwon do clubs last year. We're really lucky to have him train us."

"Oh, yes, that sounds good," Orihime said, frowning as her eyes sifted through the crowd of people, her steps in sync with her friend's.

Then she saw it, the tall figure in white seemingly moving through the pedestrians on the opposite sidewalk, unmistakably light blue hair topping above most of the other people, head turned toward her, but mostly hidden by the crowd around him.

Orihime caught her breath, arms tightening around her bag, the squash a lump inside, her steps slowing.

And then he was gone. She glanced to Tatsuki, who walked on, reciting Master Takazawa's credentials, oblivious to what had rattled her friend.

Orihime looked back to the sidewalk across the street. For a brief second Grimmjow was back, and then vanished, and then back again only to disappear.

She halted, eyes searching the other sidewalk until the tall figure in white stopped and let the people meander around and seemingly through him.

"Hey, you coming, Orihime?" Tatsuki glanced back at her friend, and then looked to the opposite sidewalk, frowning at what held her attention. "What do you see?"

He was gone. Orihime made herself move again, looking to Tatsuki with an unfocused stare. "Nothing. I just ... Nothing, Tatsuki."

"You sure?"

Orihime nodded, easing into a smile she didn't feel.

"Well, if you're sure. I got to run." Tatsuki pulled her book bag straps over both shoulders. "When are you going to butcher that squash?"

Orihime smiled wider. "In a few days. You'll come for dinner?"

"If I can. See ya!"

"Bye, good luck!" Orihime called as Tatsuki broke into a run down the sidewalk.

She made herself continue on, chiding herself for imagining to see Grimmjow. If she didn't look, he wouldn't be there.

_And if I look and he's really there_, she told herself, _it's my imagination. It has to be_.

She glanced to the opposite sidewalk and stopped in her tracks. He stood staring back at her, this time in a sparser crowd of people. He watched her for a few seconds, and then looked in the direction Tatsuki had run.

To Orihime's horror, he dashed after her friend, crossing the street with lightning speed, and weaving among the people on the sidewalk in front of her, out of sight.

"Tatsuki!" Orihime dropped her book bag and squash and took off after the figure in white.

"Watch it!" cried a man as she pushed past him.

"Hey!" said another.

She pushed through the crowd in front of her, a sea of people milling before her as she dashed pell mell after the tall form that she knew to be the dead Espada Six. Her steps raced on, bumping shoulders and elbows with the crowd as she hurried, her breath coming in pants as she covered the first two blocks before the streets opened into a busier section of town.

She was still in mid-stride when two large fingers hooked over the back of her skirt waist and lurched her to a halt as she passed an alley. She found herself flung to the wall of a brick building in the side street, looking up at a very much live-appearing Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

He stood looking down at her, the mask in place at his jaw, watching her with what seemed to be a mixture of slight confusion and recollection. His torso was covered with an unbuttoned white shirt, but she knew it was him.

She held her breath despite her heaving lungs, afraid to move, but unwilling to speak.

Suddenly from farther down the alley a pair of black-robed figures dropped down from the building's rooftop. Grimmjow's attention snapped that way, eyes narrowing on the two shinigami, and then he darted away, seeming to disappear into the crowd at the sidewalk.

Orihime slid down the wall a few inches, the shinigami but a blur as they passed her in pursuit of Grimmjow. She took a shaky breath and stood straighter as another figure appeared before her, this one she readily recognized. She looked up at Renji now in his black robes.

"Are you all right, Orihime?" he asked as she sagged against the wall, eyes still wide.

She nodded numbly, remembering to breathe.

He took her wrist and pulled her out of the alley, eyes searching the milling people on the sidewalks before going back to her. "Go home."

"But he's after Tatsuki," she said, gasping at the words. She took a step down the sidewalk before his hand jerked her to a stop.

"Go home, Orihime. We'll see to your friend," he said, this time more forcefully.

She nodded, and he followed after the two shinigami already in the distance.

* * *

It took twenty minutes for Orihime to get home. Her pace had been quick, but she'd forgotten her bag and squash and had to backtrack a few blocks to get them. She shakily fit the key in her apartment door, went in, and bolted every lock on it behind her.

Grimmjow.

It was true. Rukia and Ichigo were right. Renji had seen him, too, and two other shinigami had chased him.

She set the squash on the counter in the kitchenette and let her book bag fall to the floor at the cupboard side. Her heart was still racing, and she made herself turn the squash, examining it for damage, trying to think of the lyrics of the song playing from the next apartment as her mind raced through images of the Espada.

It was him. She knew it. She hadn't sensed but a mere ripple of spiritual pressure from him, more the bone-chilling cold, but it was him.

She frowned, running a finger over the small crack in the squash's tan skin. Not much damage, she decided. She wiped the vegetable off with a towel and put it in the small refrigerator, where it took up most of one shelf.

She sighed, pushing her hair from her face, trying to block out the Espada's piercing eyes on her. She groaned, refusing to let her pulse skyrocket again, and went into her bedroom.

She didn't want to take off the vest and certainly not the blouse, even for a few moments being without their warmth, but she did, and changed into a thicker peach colored sweater with longer sleeves. She shivered, whisking off her school shirt and gym shorts and trading them for a longer blue skirt, hoping to quell the chill she knew had nothing to do with the weather.

She pulled her hair out of her round collar and stepped back into the living room, her eyes skirting nervously around it. She didn't want to start her schoolwork, and her hands were too shaky to attempt beadwork for the Handcrafts Club project. She wished she knew how Tatsuki was.

At practice, she told herself. Renji and the other shinigami would have taken care of any problems. She blocked out the memories of the two dead white-robed forms in Urahara's shop from a few days back

She shook her head to clear the memory as a knock sounded at the door. She knew it was Renji, recognizing him easily, smiling a little at her new ability, and unlocked the door quickly.

She opened the door wide, smiling more, and let him in without a word.

"Are you all right?" he asked as she closed the door and locked it.

She nodded. "Did you find him?"

He shook his head, glancing over her change of attire, still in his shinigami robes. "He was gone by the time I caught up with them. He didn't seem interested in a confrontation." He frowned as she did. "Your friend -- Arisawa-san? -- is fine. She was just entering the dojo as we passed, and there was no sign of Grimmjow."

She sighed heavily, smiling. "Good. Thank you for checking."

He nodded. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No." She crossed her arms, stifling a shiver.

"Are you cold?"

She shook her head. "Just a chill." She looked around the room and then back to him. "Sit down. I'll get you a soda."

"That's all right, Orihime." He watched her fingers grip her sweater sleeves tighter. "I'm covering the west side of town this evening, back-up for Division Twelve. Neither of the other two shinigami you saw have had much field experience," he added dryly. "Rukia is taking the east side with another pair." He looked to each of her eyes. "You want someone here with you?" He didn't want to suggest the next words, but he did anyway. "You want to have Ichigo come over? Until you calm down."

"Oh, no, no," she said quickly. "I'm fine, Renji. Just a little shaken. That's all."

He nodded, watching her hands rub her arms until she noticed his attention, and then she dropped her arms to her sides. "What about you friend? Arisawa-san."

"She has practice until late." She hesitated to say more, and then sighed. "She said she'd call if it wasn't too late."

He nodded. "All right. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Oh, Renji, can you tell Urahara-san I want to help," she said as he stepped towards the door.

He looked at her sharply. "Are you sure? You don't have to give him an answer yet."

She nodded with more enthusiasm than she felt. "But only for Ayame and Shunou's abilities. The healing spirits," she added when he didn't recognize the names. "To begin with. I'm not sure about the others."

He wasn't about to try talking her out of it, seeing as she was allowing only a partial study of her powers. "I'll let him know in the morning, Orihime."

She smiled as he unlocked the door and opened it. "Thanks."

He looked at the deadbolt and chain locks on the door, knowing they would do little to stop anyone of Grimmjow's capabilities if he wanted to come in, even if the Espada was nearly powerless in the spiritual sense. The Arrancar had exceptional physical abilities, too. "Keep these locked."

"I will."

He took a final glimpse at her, knowing she was still unsettled from her encounter, but attempting to maintain her composure. "Goodnight, Orihime."

"Goodnight, Renji."

* * *

He spent the next four hours combing Karakura Town's west side with the other two members of the Twelfth Division. They weren't too happy about his _tagging along_, as they termed it, and Renji had made it clear he was only there in an observatory manner.

He outranked them, he reminded the unseated shinigami, and that was enough to keep their grumblings to a minimum. He knew Rukia was going through the same routine with the other pair of fledgling probationaries on the east side of town, and while she was not a seated officer, her relation to Captain Kuchiki was generally enough to throw the extra weight she needed.

The night was mild, with little breeze as Renji leapt from rooftop to rooftop amid the chimneys and lines of forgotten laundry across the residential areas. Quiet, too, for which he was glad.

At the same time, it made him wonder what the newly identified Espada was doing if not raising hell. It didn't make any sense, not from what he knew and had heard of Grimmjow.

He settled on the rooftop of the fifth floor of Orihime's apartment building. It wasn't a large complex that she lived in, but tall enough, and the clients were orderly and quiet.

_Except for the radio coming from her neighbor's unit_, he thought, crouching at the edge of the building, looking down at the light coming from a few of the windows on the floors below. She said she didn't mind the music, he reminded himself, and he decided to believe her.

He looked back out over the town, wondering if Rukia was already holed up in Kurosaki's closet for the night. Or maybe she wasn't. He growled, steering his thoughts away from that prospect.

It was Grimmjow, there was no denying the man standing threateningly close before Orihime that afternoon. She knew it, too. Renji's eyes narrowed as he thought back on it. They'd given chase, he and the other two shinigami from Twelfth, but the once-dead Espada had simply disappeared. No trace of him. There'd been no surge of spiritual energy, no residual presence, and Renji was beginning to think him near powerless.

Even with limited spiritual power Grimmjow was a strong being. Finding two power-robbed shinigami dead and dying was only evidence that Grimmjow was refurbishing himself. Which lead Renji to wonder why, and even if Aizen was still the top rung of the ladder in what he'd only heard described as the Realm.

From below he could hear Orihime's voice become recognizable after a lull in the pop music drifting out of the neighboring window. She was talking to Tatsuki, he understood after a few moments of listening -- eavesdropping, Renji realized with a little guilt -- recounting the day, leaving out Grimmjow completely.

_How very like her,_ he thought. Protective of her friend.

He listened for a moment more, promising himself he'd leave if the conversation turned private, but it didn't, and he enjoyed the sound of her voice, even if she was saying somewhat unimportant and even silly things.

"Here you are," Rukia said, alighting to his side, her tone accusatory and slightly suspicious. "Any luck finding him?"

"None." Renji looked her over quickly, as he always did after she returned from hunting any Hollow, finding her undamaged. "You?"

She shook her head, standing at his side to look over the town shutting down for the night. "You're sure it was him?"

"Yup."

"Is Orihime okay?"

"She says she is." He waited a few moments before poking her knee, making her flinch. "Aren't you supposed to be in a closet somewhere?"

She flicked his ponytail with her fingers. "I'm going."

He sighed, eyes going back to the neighborhood. "Be careful, Rukia. He's still out there, and he's not harmless."

He voice took on a gentler tone. "Which is why you're here, Renji?"

When he didn't answer, instead watching the lights blink out in the next apartment building, she giggled.

"See you later, Renji."

"Goodnight, Rukia."

She sprinted off into the night, and Renji's attention turned to the conversation and music from below.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed and are reading this.**


	7. The Right Girl

The mid-September breeze was gusty and on the cool side as Orihime finished her work for the day in the classroom the Handcrafts Club met in after school. It was one of the old science labs, defunct equipment and storage supplies for other classes stored in it, boxes and desks lining the walls.

She straightened on her metal stool at the work table, her back aching a little from hunkering over the iridescent blue and purple seed beads she was stringing as fringe for the hem of their dress being entered in the prefecture-wide competition for the Autumn Fashions Showcase. She looked up to rest her eyes from the strain of the tiny beads, peeking to where Uryuu was speaking with one of the other club members. He'd been out of sorts all day since learning the requirements instructions for entries had been in error, and the hem of the garments had to be an additional four inches in length.

He looked her way and a frown set on his features as he came over to her. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, inspecting her work without seeming to. "I hate to ask it of you, Inoue-san," he said again, voice dropping. "But it would help make up the new length requirements."

"Oh, it's no problem," she said with a smile, hoping to cheer his dour mood. It didn't seem to help much. "I think I have enough beads, and I know I have enough line. We still have a few weeks."

He nodded, looking as if he wanted to say more, and then sighed. "Thank you for putting in the extra effort. It'll save a redesign, which I wouldn't mind doing, but I have high hopes for our current design, and the Club doesn't have the funds to start over with new materials."

"I know. It's no problem," she said, smiling wider as a slight grin came to his face.

"Thank you, Inoue-san."

When she left the school an hour later Orihime's back was aching a little from straining over the beadwork, but she preferred that to the chill from the week before when she'd encountered Grimmjow. She tried not to think about, but it crept into her thoughts when she was alone on the streets, and when she went to bed every night. She hadn't heard any more stories of impaled shinigamis or sensed anything similar, but she knew he wasn't going away until someone made him go away.

She clutched her books tighter to her chest as she turned down the last street in the overcast sun of the late afternoon, having forgotten her book bag at school. She found herself looking anxiously to the sidewalk running along the opposite side of the street and then to the building rooftops, hoping to glimpse Renji. He'd walked her home a few times over the last week, and while she hadn't come to expect it, she did like it.

She liked it a lot. He didn't seem to mind her company, either. She felt warmer when he was around, and told herself it was because she felt safer. He told her he couldn't promise to see her home every day, as Urahara had matters requiring his attention, but she did look for him. A few times she'd sensed him before spotting him, and those times she felt a strange anticipation in his escort. She was sure it was her imagination, but he seemed to like her company.

_But it was probably just the shinigami duty he was fulfilling_, she thought to herself as she clutched her books tighter. _Sympathy and obligation,_ she reminded silently. It was enough.

Her apartment building was in sight when she felt Ichigo close, and turned to see him jogging up to her on the sidewalk behind her.

Old, heavily imprinted emotions began to surface, and she forced them down, determined to put away what she believed to be habitual feelings. But she did smile up at him when he reached her side. There was no reason not to; he was still her friend. Always would be, she hoped.

But she wasn't spilling any more tears over him.

At least, not the same kind of tears she had previously.

"Hey, Orihime, you didn't tell me," he said accusingly as he set pace with her. He made a gesture to reach for her books, then thought better of the movement and its assumptive proximity to her sweater vest and shrugged. "I'll carry those for you."

Any other time she would have blushed crimson and let him, but she only smiled, saving her blushes. "It's okay, I've got them, Kurosaki-kun. What didn't I tell you?"

"You saw Grimmjow and he chased you and Tatsuki," he said, eyes narrowing on her as they dodged a line of people on the sidewalk coming toward them out of a building. "Renji told Rukia and she told me. Tatsuki doesn't know?"

"No. Renji and two others from Twelfth I think it was took care of it," she said, trying to dismiss what was a very bothersome episode for her.

"Renji?" He looked genuinely surprised.

She nodded. "And two others."

Something of a grin crossed his face. "Abarai-san? Or Renji, Orihime?"

The pink touching her cheeks didn't go unnoticed to him and she kept her eyes on the sidewalk in front of them. "Renji."

He chuckled, nodding. "That's good. About time, too."

Her attention snapped to him, frowning a bit. "Why?"

"You're so polite to people who don't expect it." He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking to the opposite side of the street, eyes searching for a familiar Espada.

"Why doesn't he expect it?" She couldn't keep the defensiveness out of her tone.

"Huh? Oh, not that way." They reached her apartment building and he pulled open the main door for her. "It's just that you can be less formal with some people."

She nodded, holding her books closer as she sidestepped an older man going through the door Ichigo still held open. "I see what you mean."

He frowned. "You should've told me about Grimmjow, Orihime. He's not the same as he was, but we don't know what he's capable of. He could be banished from Aizen and working on his own, or he could have other reasons for being in Karakura." His eyes softened a little at his next words. "But if he has his targets on you, you need to tell us. Me, too, not just Renji."

She frowned a little. "I don't even know if Grimmjow knows who I was. He didn't seem to recognize me, not for certain."

"Well, there's some reason he followed you." He sighed, frowning at the top of her hair as she kept her eyes on the entryway. "I know I've failed to protect you in the past, Orihime, but I won't stop trying."

She looked to him, nodding. "You've done so much for everyone. All your friends, and so --"

"I've failed a lot of people," he said, his jaw clenching at the words.

She studied his face for a moment, trying to smile like she meant it. "You didn't fail Rukia, remember? You saved her."

He nodded, eyes darting from the sidewalk across the street back to her. "Yeah. But next time you tell me if you see Grimmjow, or anyone like that again."

She nodded. "I'll tell you next time, Kurosaki-kun."

He offered part of a smile. "Hopefully there won't be a next time."

"Hopefully." She stepped past him into the apartment building. "Thanks for walking me."

"See you tomorrow, Orihime."

Once in her apartment Orihime looked around the main room before locking the door behind her. Nothing was amiss, no lingering unsettledness of invasion. She sighed and went to the desk by the window overlooking the street dropped her books in a haphazard stack on it. She straightened them and went into her bedroom, giving the room a cursory glimpse before hurrying out of her school clothes and into a pair of burgundy pants and an oversized pink sweater. She wasn't ready to shut the windows, enjoying the breeze sifting through the rooms, but there was a slight shiver in the air.

Or maybe it was just her.

* * *

The two weeks Grimmjow had spent in Karakura Town had resulted in little. He'd taken down a few spiritually aware but low power individuals just to keep his senses sharp and levels up, but not enough to return to Aizen's Realm yet.

Aizen had made it clear after losing the War, he had only so many positions of power for any former Espada, and even the few remaining Arrancar once considered highly placed were not guaranteed any preferential treatment. Grimmjow knew this, and knew of two such Arrancar loose already on the town, seeking to out-best him before he could prove himself.

_'Don't bother coming back unless you want a place at the top; I've got enough fancy ants,_' had been Aizen's exact words.

To even think of competing with the likes of Loly and Menoly for a rank Grimmjow considered his by force-right was maddening. They weren't his caliber, his equal, even his colleagues, but there they were; neck and neck with him for Aizen's right hand in the new Realm.

He moved down the darkened sidewalk of the town's fringe neighborhood. He'd been following her for a while, the girl with the tawny-red hair and flitting spiritual presence that spiked and dipped sporadically. She'd become aware of him ten blocks back, he knew, and her footsteps had quickened as she hugged her school books close and ducked down another set of alleys between the brick buildings. Ahead she disappeared into a doorway in one of the structures where an alley dead ended. He followed her inside the building, almost able to hear her breathing turn more to a pant of fear in the stairwell that opened from the alley door.

Her footfalls echoed above him on the steps as he entered the narrow stairwell, and he climbed methodically, the graffiti on the walls making less sense to him than most scribbles he'd seen in the Living World.

His speed was still there, and most of his physical strength, and he could have made short work of catching her if he chose to, but he was in no hurry, choosing instead to gauge her fear, seeing if he could recognize the fear of the girl who'd been prisoner in Las Noches. He didn't recognize her, not her face entirely anyway, but he recalled a good deal about her, and he'd come close a few times to finding her. Or so he'd thought.

The girl he followed now was similar, and once he got close enough he could determine more. Her name slipped his memory, as so many vital facts had since his refunctioning, as Aizen had termed it, but her physical attributes were familiar, and if he heard her name, Grimmjow was almost sure he'd remember it.

They reached the top of the staircase, both of them, first her and then Grimmjow a few paces behind, and it opened to the roof of the six story building. He saw her jerk the latch on the door and begin to step out, then halt, glance back at him with wide fearful eyes, and then bolt out the door.

The door slammed as she exited and he wrenched it open to see the rooftop of the building, the wide flat surface dark in the late evening with only a few lights from taller buildings stretching across at a couple of spots. She turned to face him, her arms wrapped around the books at her chest, her school uniform oddly pale grays in the moonlight. She backed away from him, her footsteps slow on the rooftop as he closed the space between them.

"Stay away!" she cried, her voice trembling and weak from the last half hour of trying to elude him.

He thought it was too squeaky to be the right girl.

"Don't come any closer!"

That she could even see him told Grimmjow a lot, but not everything he wanted to know. He advanced on her, the height of the location of their meeting not completely to his liking either; not all his skills as an Espada were intact. Speed and strength were there, but his former spiritual ability was no where what it had been, and the few shinigami he'd robbed hadn't provided the extremes he needed. Soul Reaper powers were difficult to ingest for an Espada, and the ones he'd absorbed were low level. The ones he wanted were too powerful for him to successfully encounter yet.

The girl was backing up, her shoes wobbly on the uneven roofing as she found herself nearing the building's edge. She chanced a glance behind her and slowed, until she had no choice but to look at Grimmjow closing in on her. She darted to one side, parallel to the drop to her right side.

He caught her easily as she sprinted, one large hand closing on her school blouse and tie in a handful that halted her flight. In that handful Grimmjow felt many things; her ample bosom, her heartbeat thumping painfully in her chest, the sheer fright she emitted.

But he didn't feel any recollection as he had with the girl from a few days past. The girl whose skirt he'd hooked with his fingers. The girl who'd been with the dark-haired companion, and who'd sent three shinigamis after him without so much as a summoning word.

He held her to the building's edge, her shoes on tiptoe as her arms dropped and the books tumbled six flights to the alley below. Her hands clamped around his wrist, wide brown eyes staring back at him as his icy blue ones glared into her.

"What's your name?" he demanded as she whimpered, not daring to look down.

"Please, stop!" she begged. "Let me go! I don't have any money."

"What's your name?!" He jerked her small form over the edge, the weight of her body pulling at her blouse, her hands tight on his wrist.

"Matsuko. Ai Matsuko," she gasped, legs dangling, the fear choking her words.

Grimmjow scowled, the name doing nothing for him. He'd know her name if he heard it. He was sure of it. His eyes narrowed on the pleading face, the very softness in the tears starting at her eyes irritating him all the more. He'd hate to kill the wrong girl.

"Again," he said, waiting to sense the spiritual power that had restored his arm. "Your name."

"Ai Matsuko," she sobbed, fingernails biting into his skin in a desperate hold. "Please don't hurt me."

"Not the right one," he said, his mind moving on already. One less prospect to worry about, one less to confuse him in the future, he decided. He released her, the momentary shock and frantic hopelessness eclipsing her face as she fell into the semi-darkness below.

Three gone, three less he had to confuse with the one he sought. He watched emotionless as her body made a dull thud, a fleshy splat on the alley cobblestones below, still a little fascinated that they managed to die of sheer terror before actually hitting the ground.

He turned and crossed the rooftop to the stairwell, not quite trusting his considerable strength to attempt leaping from the six stories to the street below. Not yet.

The girl from the market street was still his highest prospect. He'd seen the glimmer of recognition as well as fear in her face that day, seen the fear of the _known_ that time in her eyes.

If he heard her name, he'd be sure.

* * *

**Author Note:** Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story.


	8. Alley Find

Urahara generally made his rounds in the surrounding neighborhoods a few times a week, out of professional curiosity he'd always told himself, and Yoruichi and Tessai, but lately the morning strolls had taken on a new purpose. The increased Hollow activity coupled with sightings of a once-thought-dead Espada was unsettling, and since Soul Society had taken little interest in the latter matter, he decided to pursue it on his own. Besides, he'd excused to Tessai, he needed something by which to align the new data he'd collected.

He made his way down the back street six blocks from his shop mid-morning, a nominal distance, and his excuse had been to let Ururu and Jinta visit their favorite pet shop's front window. Besides, there was little reason to isolate Orihime Inoue's spiritual powers from what he already knew of shinigami and the few Arrancar he'd come into contact with if there were other outside forces that she'd been exposed to during her stay in Hueco Mundo. If Grimmjow was at large, one of the fallen victims could hold a sample of the Espada's reiatsu. From what Urahara had learned of Orihime already, he knew his samples contained her spiritual make-up only, no one else's.

It was as Ururu pressed her nose against the pet shop's wide front window to see the kittens romping in the display pen with Jinta looking sourly on from behind her that Urahara got his chance. The low spiritual pressure wafting out of the alley between the pet shop and the bakery across the narrow lane was weak, barely discernable, and getting fainter.

"You two stay here," he told the children, and then turned down the alley. It was crowded with dumpsters and trash, broken pallets and garbage cans of animal waste from the pet shop. Urahara wrinkled his nose at the stench, but left his fan in his pocket, eyes shifting to each side of the shadowed alley as he carefully stepped farther into it.

Halfway down the buzz of flies caught his attention, and then he saw her. She was lying supine, amid the garbage of an overturned container of discarded bakery items, her skirt flayed out just above her knees, arms and legs spread askew, her face turned from him, eyes closed.

He approached cautiously, seeing no movement but knowing she was still alive. He stopped at her side, eyes going over her bloodied hair and bruised and slightly swollen appendages, her tan shirt soaked with brown blood from her broken ribs that had punctured her flesh. He knelt, putting two fingers to her bloodied neck, feeling a faint rapid pulse.

A slight movement at her throat caught his attention, as if she were trying to swallow. He looked closer at her face, her auburn hair sticking to the blood at her temple. She'd been there for a while, he determined, judging from the flies that had collected at her temple.

"You've had it quite rough, haven't you, honey?" he murmured, shooing the flies away from her ear. Her eyes remained closed when he lifted her head gently, hearing the bones in her neck crack. "Ah, it's a good thing you're unconscious. Hang in there, and we'll see what we can do for you."

He looked down the alley to where Ururu and Jinta were standing at the sidewalk watching him curiously. He smiled, waving for them to stay back. "Jinta, Ururu, run and get Tessai and be quick."

Both children nodded and sprinted down the opposite sidewalk.

Urahara's attention went to the four story rooftops of the buildings around him, and then back to the girl at his feet lying in a pile of broken pastries and blood. "If it hadn't been for this mound of baked goods, you'd have died on impact, my dear," he told her, feeling along her bruised arms, frowning at the coolness of her skin. He waved away another round of flies.

She wasn't a high spiritually-aware girl, that was evident by her waning pressure which should have been much stronger with her impending death, but she had enough to form a signature for his study. Among the Living her signature would map differently than a Hollow, shinigami, or Arrancar. With such weak pressure she wouldn't be able to ward off absorbing any spiritual powers around her, primarily her attacker -- if she had been attacked -- and with the fear that came with dying she would have absorbed more than usual.

Fear was like that, he'd learned. The combination of low spiritual powers and heightened fear was the perfect method of absorbing threads from any other reiatsu, and with the circumstances obviously surrounding the girl's attack, Urahara guessed she had soaked up a good impression, be it Hollow or other that had tried to kill her.

He wiped a strand of hair from her face that was caught in the dried blood, noting her closed eyes didn't even twitch at his touch. "It doesn't look good for you, honey, I admit, but we have the best healers. Stay with us a little longer."

* * *

The rise in schoolgirl deaths did not go unnoticed across Karakura Town. In total there had been five in two weeks, and most were being termed suicides. It wasn't uncommon, with high school fall exams approaching and stress levels rising, especially among the better high schools.

Suicide was the official story running in the newspapers; girls throwing themselves from high buildings rather than face the prospects of failing exams the next few weeks or disappointing traditional family expectations. Few commented on the fact that not all the girls were not poor students, whose academic records held promise, several of whom had attended a prestigious private school.

It was on Orihime's mind as she broke from class a few days later, as were a few other things. She watched Uryu collect his books and leave the classroom without speaking to anyone.

There went the answer to her question about the beadwork, she decided as she shoved her books inside her book bag.

"See ya tomorrow, 'Hime," Tatsuki said with a wave as she lunged from her desk chair with her book bag. "Don't forget, my place tomorrow after school!"

"Bye, Tatsuki!" Orihime returned the wave as her friend left the room hurriedly, pushing her way through the other students. She stood and pulled her bag strap over her shoulder as Ichigo came up to her desk. She turned a smile on him. "Hi, Kurosaki-kun."

"Hey, Orihime," he said, watching her take a few steps between the rows of desks, his voice lowering. "Any more problems?"

She shook her head, keeping her smile. "Nope. All good." She glanced to the teacher who was speaking with another student. For a long moment she wanted to tell him more about the coldness she'd felt when Grimmjow was near, but she refrained. She preferred to think it was a chill and nothing more, and if that's all it was he'd think her sillier than he already did. "You?"

He shook his head, and then looked out the window where Rukia was standing at the sidewalk, this time in her gigai and street clothes. Orihime followed his gaze and backed down the row of desks.

"Well, see you tomorrow, Kurosaki-kun," she said, turning and hurrying away.

"Hey, do you want to walk with us?" he asked, catching up with her at the doorway.

She shook her head quickly. "No. I'll try to find Chizuru," she said, the words not the ones she really wanted to say, but deciding it better than the ones on her mind. "Bye!"

"Bye, Orihime."

She moved quickly out into the hall, and then took a hasty look around, seeing a score of other students but no Chizuru. She moved on to the exit doors, not wanting to find her female classmate all that much anyway. She was vaguely aware of Ichigo departing the sidewalk behind her, veering to where she knew Rukia to be waiting. For him.

She sighed and put a trot in her step, dodging the students in front of her, hearing -- and ignoring -- Chizuru's frantic screech of a call from deeper in the thick of their classmates. She didn't want to talk with the girl, or be near her, at the moment. The girl's once-friendly and excusable antics of glomping on her had gotten past a point where Orihime didn't want the attention, not the way it had become too intimate coming from one of her female friends.

Orihime turned onto the sidewalk that ran along the street. Actually, attention of that kind wasn't acceptable from her male friends, either. Or Kon, who'd gotten the hint two stiff elbows to the ribs earlier in the summer. Even Ichigo had wondered at the bruises his body had gotten while he wasn't in it.

She giggled and crossed the street to the next block before realizing Renji was near. She turned to see him, his gigai in his usual black t-shirt and jeans, smiling as he caught up with her. He grinned back at her, picking the book bag off her shoulder without her protest, slinging it over his own shoulder.

"How was your day?" he asked, watching her hands clasp before her in absence of the bag.

"Good. Yours?"

He chuckled. "Same as most of the rest."

Her eyes dropped to his t-shirt and then back to his face. "Another day of testing out the gigai?"

He shook his head. "That's about it, and painting Tanaka-san's storage shed."

She nodded. "What color?"

"White, with black trim. First coat is done, tomorrow is the second coat and maybe the trim."

Her eyes lingered on his hand at the bag strap at his chest before going to the next intersection they crossed. "How do you test out a gigai?"

He muttered something she didn't quite hear before answering. "The way Urahara does it is different than Captain Kurotsuchi's methods, I can tell you. First Urahara's got a series of short seventy-two hour tests, and then he wants duration tests, which can last for months."

"Oh." She stifled part of a smile as they reached her street and crossed the last intersection. "Which are you doing? Unless it's personal or confidential."

"Nothing like that," he said as they came up to her apartment building. He opened the door and she ducked under his arm to go inside. He followed her up the oblique staircases to the fourth floor. "I've done one short set and have two more to do, and then I'm not sure about the longer test."

"Why not?"

They climbed the first staircase and turned onto the second, holding to the wall as a couple of grade school children came running down past them.

"My Captain might not be up for that," he said as they resumed climbing the stairs, Orihime leading, him watching her skirt sway as she moved a few steps ahead of him. His eyes went to her legs, her long socks not diminishing the shapeliness of her calves, deciding the few inches she'd gained in height over the last year had been put to good use.

"Why not?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from her legs as she turned to glance at him over her shoulder. He pulled his thoughts away from the swishing hem of her skirt. "Oh, I'll have to check in with him before I start something of that duration."

She nodded as they took the final staircase and the landing that opened into the hall to her apartment. They were the only ones in the corridor, but the music was already playing from the apartment next to hers.

Renji looked at the neighboring door as she unlocked her own. "Are you sure the music is okay with you, Orihime? I'll get him to turn it down, if you want."

She shook her head, eyes staying on his as she pushed open the door. "It doesn't bother me. Does it bother you?"

He shook his head and followed her in.

The apartment was warmer than usual for the afternoon, and Orihime explained to him that it always happened that way when her neighbor on the floor below her baked bread, which was a few times a week. She dismissed herself to change clothes, and he waited in the small living room, the smell of freshly baked bread invading the apartment.

It was a better memory association with bakeries than the dead girl in Urahara's shop earlier that day. The shopkeeper had told him of finding the girl, and her death shortly after Tessai had brought her to the shop and was unable to save her life. Renji had performed the konsou, the girl's filmy spirit escaping without a sound, gone within seconds of being released.

The girl had been badly injured, internal bleeding the cause of death, her rumpled school uniform of burgundy skirt and light colored blouse out of place for her condition.

It hadn't escaped Renji that the girl's appearance was very similar to Orihime Inoue, at least in the mundane description of her physically. Hair color, eye color -- Urahara had swabbed the dead girl's eyelid with water before forcing open the lid to prove eye color to Renji, a detail he really hadn't needed to see -- build, and age.

There the similarities ended, but Renji could see how the description could have matched both girls. He looked back to her as she appeared from her bedroom doorway in a pair of blue pants and a pale pink shirt, and decided not to say anything about Urahara's find.

She took the book bag he was still holding. "Thanks for carrying it, Renji."

He nodded as she stowed it at the desk and then followed her into the kitchenette, watching as she bent over at a cupboard to bring out a box of crackers, eyes flicking to hers before she caught his attention.

"Can you stay for dinner?" she asked, hopefulness evident in her tone.

This time he relented, partially because she gave him a generous smile and a slight blush, and partly because he was hungry and very tired of his own cooking, which was primarily a bowl of noodles with liberal amounts of teriyaki sauce.

They settled on the cushions at the low table before the futon in her living room, her small television set nearby broadcasting some game show that neither kept track of and the pop music from the next apartment lower than usual, with an impromptu dinner of leftover butternut squash soup, sesame crackers, and a chicken and udon dish Orihime made in the time it took the soup to heat up.

For a while they talked of the usual things, the weather, her exams coming up in the next month, her involvement in the handcrafts competition. She was surprised he knew anything about it, and Renji had to admit that Rukia had enlightened him of her and Uryu's participation.

"That's good," he said, nodding as she detailed the dress the club was going to enter in the competition.

She laughed lightly, pushing the dish of sunflower kernels on the table to him for his soup. "It's silly, to a shinigami. You don't have to humor me, Renji."

He caught the look of toleration she gave him, for a moment her appearing unlike the teen girl who had accosted Soul Society with Ichigo a year and a half ago. "No, it's not. What's wrong with hobbies?"

She sunk her spoon into the bottom half of her remaining soup. "You have more important things to think about. Hollows, lieutenant duties, that gigai you're testing," she added with a muted giggle.

He looked down to his black t-shirt, frowning. "What's wrong with the gigai?"

She smiled, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug. "Nothing at all. Too bad Urahara-san can't make one that will walk itself home after you've left it to become a shinigami."

It was a good suggestion, and one he had sometimes wondered himself. "Now that would be useful."

She looked down to his nearly finished bowl of soup. "This wasn't what I had planned when you agreed to come for dinner, Renji," she said, leaving him confused until she added, "I didn't mean for it to be leftover soup and noodles and chicken."

He broke off a piece of sesame cracker. "Why not? It's good."

She took a deep breath. "I'd rather make something you like. I hate eating alone," she said more to herself than him, chasing a sunflower kernel floating on the top of her soup with her spoon. "I wanted it to be a better dinner than this."

He nodded, recognizing forlornness when he saw it. He'd been there himself. "Is that an invitation? Because this is fine with me, Orihime."

"I can cook better than this," she said, warming to the idea, smiling more. "Yes, it's an invitation for a real dinner."

He knew the words were out of kindness, but what he'd heard of her culinary arts gave him pause. Before he could answer his communicator beeped, and he took it out of his pocket to see the screen. "Twelfth, on the east side of town," he determined, looking back to her.

She pushed a smile in place of her look of disappointment. "You have to go?"

"I don't have to, but I am. It's a couple of probationaries, and they haven't much experience." He stood up and she rose to her feet, too.

"You'll be careful, Renji," she said as she followed him to the door, her tone heavy with concern.

He stopped and turned, nodding at her troubled look. "Always. You'll let me know if anything happens, right?"

She almost said it, almost told him, but he was in a hurry, and it was childish to complain of a slight chill, she told herself. She nodded, smiling at his grin. "I will."

He opened the door, the volume of music increasing from the apartment neighboring hers. "I'll take you up on dinner, too, Orihime."

She smiled wider. "Good."

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed.**


	9. Tomato and Raspberry

A slight drizzle had started earlier in the afternoon and continued on into dusk, making the Karakura streets shine with the damp. The shinigami from Twelfth Division had had his hands full with the Hollow that had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, a low-power soul of unrest that had proved more agile than tenacious, and the shinigami probationary had little problem taking it down.

It was a small triumph for the shinigami, smiling as he holstered his sword, and he'd done it single-handedly, without his partner who was on the other side of town pursuing an especially elusive Hollow from earlier, and without those know-it-alls from the other divisions, namely Rukia Kuchiki and Renji Abarai.

"Twelfth doesn't need back-up from _any_ division," he told no one in the empty alley off the main street.

He turned as the Hollow fell into a dying, panting heap in the alley, only to find himself confronted with another entity, one he'd never before encountered.

Before he could move or question her, Loly lunged at him, slashing open his chest with her tanto, pink eyes flashing at his surprise. To her shock he returned an equally speedy recovery and pulled his zanpakuto, slicing across her abdomen below the tied blouse of her stolen school uniform and thrusting the blade through her stomach. She doubled in pain as he withdrew the katana, grunting out a curse, and fell to her knees as a faint pink aura swirled above her.

He recoiled and prepared to deliver a lethal cut across her neck when he found himself knocked back a few steps by a weak cero blast. He gripped the sword's hilt and glowered at Menoly as she dropped to the ground in the alley from the nearby building's six floor rooftop.

"Damn it," she muttered, disappointed in the feebleness of her attack. Before the shinigami could recover fully from her blast, she leapt toward him, over Loly's crumpled form, and forced herself through him.

The shinigami from Twelfth wasn't sure what was happening, aware only of the girl's form passing through him, absorbing every bit of reiryoku from him in the process, the sudden draining feeling as she stood behind him.

He looked down to his robes that were now white, surprised as he fell to his knees, and then prone across Menoly, the air and existence sucked from his body.

Menoly turned to watch him fall to the ground, kicking his dead form as he dropped onto Loly. The sudden surge of reiryoku coursing through her was dizzying, not because he'd been such a powerful Soul Reaper, but because she was low on power and shinigami reiryoku was still alien to her and difficult to manage.

She stood with feet braced, hands balled into fists as the spiritual energy coursed through her, wishing she could take down the more powerful shinigami that could possibly put her ahead of Grimmjow.

She wasn't there yet, and she knew it. She pushed a hand through her short, belligerent blonde hair, taking a deep breath, feeling revitalized. She giggled and kicked the shinigami completely off Loly.

She rolled her fellow Arrancar over, shaking her head at the wounds on the girl's stomach, the pale pink aura dissolving completely. She sat back on her heels.

"Hurry up, you bonehead," she mumbled to the lifeless form, pushing a black braid from the girl's face. "We don't have time for you to be dead too long. These shinigami run in pairs most of the time, and there'll be another one along any minute."

She looked up to the alley's entrance, seeing it empty. She glanced down at Loly as the girl coughed and took a rattling breath. "Come on, Loly. Revive already."

* * *

Orihime hummed along to the music playing from her neighbor's apartment that late afternoon, her living room radio set to the same station as she stirred the pot on the stove. She didn't mind the music, and the neighbor to her other side was near deaf, so it wasn't an issue there, either, and while the music was loudest in her bedroom, by nightfall the music was usually a lot lower in volume, for which she was glad. Besides, it added much-needed company.

She sniffed the tomato and raspberry sauce, smiling at the afternoon yet ahead of her. Not that there was so much ahead of her, she rationalized, dipping a large spoon into the sauce to taste it. Renji had finally agreed to a day for dinner, and she was anticipating his company.

"Fool," she murmured to herself, tasting the deep red sauce. "Almost too much raspberry." She looked to the pot of boiling water where the soba noodles were soon to be dunked, and then to the dish of cleaned shrimp.

She wished she knew what he liked to eat best. She thought about asking Rukia, but the question seemed so odd when said aloud she hadn't dared. She'd decided on her own version of shrimp pasta with tomato raspberry sauce and store bought sweet bean paste buns. She glanced to the small orange cake with chocolate frosting on the counter by the sink, smiling despite herself. If he didn't like it, she could always order from the noodle shop around the corner.

"There's a very good chance of that," she said to the shrimp that were awaiting their turn to be cooked.

School had been quiet the last few days, with the teachers keeping everyone busy for exams and to distract them from the inordinate number of student deaths plaguing the schools. Ichigo had noticed, and Orihime knew he had ideas about the sudden surge in suicides, but he hadn't shared them with her.

He didn't have to. She knew that much about him. She could still see how his mind thought.

She shook her head and tapped the spoon over the saucepan and set it on the fish-shaped trivet between the working and non-working sets of burners on the stove. She smoothed her gray skirt that was scattered with a purple-vined flower design, opting for a longer length in the cooler weather. She carefully dumped the shrimp into the boiling water, followed by the dried noodles, and let them cook for a few moments.

How much of the chill she felt was her own and how much was the weather she refused to decide over the last few days, but she had chosen a short sleeved violet sweater with an open collar, just in case she got a chill.

She scooped out the shrimp from the boiling water with a slotted spoon and put them into the sauce, allowing the soba to finish cooking, stirring gently. The kitchenette was so warm she'd discarded her socks earlier, and she was debating changing her sweater to something lighter when a knock came to the door.

She opened the door, knowing it was Renji, and held it open wide, smiling up at him. "Hi!"

"Hi, Orihime," he said, nodding as she ushered him in. He looked around the room, half expecting her friend Tatsuki to be present, but there was no one else. He held out a plastic bag to her. "Ice cream. Vanilla. I hope its okay with you."

She nodded eagerly, taking the bag and waving him in as she went to the small refrigerator and opened the freezer door. "Thank you, Renji. Vanilla is fine. We have cake, too."

He glanced at the bunt cake with chocolate frosting dripping over the edges. "You didn't have to go through all that fuss."

She shrugged, closing the freezer door. "I like that kind of fuss."

He nodded, grinning, not recognizing the aroma of whatever was on the stove. "Good." He looked around the room, then to the wall where the music was to be heard, and then to her radio by the futon. "Thanks for inviting me."

"You might not want to say that. You haven't eaten yet," she said, reaching into the refrigerator for a couple of sodas and then retrieving two glasses from the upper cupboard. "I know not everyone likes my cooking."

"Oh, I'm sure they do," he said, hoping to sound convincing. He watched her pour the sodas and hand him one. "Tessai-san claims you make the best chicken teriyaki and I know Ururu and Jinta both liked your cookies."

"Good, but I know a lot of people don't like to eat here. I've learned to accommodate," she said with a giggle. "It's all in the toppings."

He took a drink of the soda, enjoying her smile. "Is it?"

She nodded, taking a sip of her soda, smiling more. "If I don't put as much in when I make it, people can add stuff to their own plate later."

"Is that better?" he asked, watching her shrug.

"I've only tried it out on Tatsuki. And now you."

"I'm up for it."

"Good."

She went to the stove and stirred the thick sauce that had taken on a garnet color with peaks of shrimp in it. "It's kind of like spaghetti, but with soba noodles, and tomato and raspberry sauce." She looked to where he now stood at her side, eyes on pot's contents. "I tried oranges, but they didn't get along with the tomatoes, and I tried blueberries, but they made it a brownish-purple color." She made a face at him. "It wasn't very appetizing."

"Looks all right to me."

Her eyes dropped to his gray t-shirt with a few English words, which she couldn't read despite her two years of the language in school. She looked back to the sauce, turning down the heat at the electric burner.

"Feel brave enough to eat now?"

He nodded. "Bring it on."

If Renji had misgivings about dinner at Orihime's place, they were well-hidden. He decided not to think about the combination of tomatoes, raspberries, and shrimp with noodles and simply ate it. Not bad, either, he had to admit. She offered a slew of toppings in separate dishes ranging from dried seaweed to bacon bits to shredded cheese, but he skipped most of them.

They'd settled at one corner of the low table before the futon, talk turning to a variety of subjects, but eventually hinging on matters both wished they could sometimes leave alone.

He saw her face fall at the mention of Grimmjow, feeling her knee resting against his beneath the table shift slightly, but not away. They'd moved on to dessert half an hour later, orange cake with chocolate frosting and the ice cream.

She finally nodded in answer to his question, setting one forearm on the table, spoon in her other hand hovering over her dish. "No," she said in contrast to her nod. "But I know he's been nearby."

Renji's spoon paused at his dish, eyes on her face. "How? Did someone else see him?"

She shook her head, hesitating at her next words. "I think he's been near, but I don't know for sure."

He nodded, spooning a bite of cake and ice cream. "The student deaths."

She sighed. "I don't understand why, Renji. They're just kids. The shinigamis -- they had something he wanted, but why go after just students?"

He shook his head, watching her spoon toy with the dessert. "Easy targets, Orihime."

"He's killing just to kill?" She shuddered, pushing the dish away a few inches from her, but keeping the spoon in hand.

He didn't tell her the particulars of what he knew about the school girl that had died in Urahara's shop. He didn't see how it would help her.

"Sometimes I can feel when he's near," she said lowly, eyes on the melting ice cream making puddles around her half-eaten cake.

Renji forgot his dessert entirely, eyes narrowing on her downcast stare. "How, Orihime?"

She looked slowly at him. It wasn't the conversation she wanted to have with him over dinner, but she'd already said too much to back out without lying, and she didn't want to lie to him. "I get cold, Renji."

His attention went to the violet sweater that swept across her neck that he'd thought unusually warm for the late afternoon. "Are you cold now?"

She shook her head, smiling a little more. "It's only been a few times, and only once when I've seen him, actually. It could be coincidence."

He nodded slowly. "Did you tell anyone else?"

She made herself smile fuller. "It's just a chill, Renji. I'm sure of it. I didn't tell anyone else."

"Tell me next time it happens."

She nodded, both looking to the wall behind her as the music changed at the next apartment and the volume was turned lower. He ate the last bite of the cake, watching her intently.

"I'm going back to Soul Society next week," he said.

Her eyes flicked to his quickly, the remaining large mound of dessert pausing on her spoon halfway to her lips. "For how long? I mean, are you done testing?"

He shook his head. "No. Two of the short tests are over, and I'm going to request permission for the longer set before doing the last seventy-two hour one."

She ate the last bite, nodding as she thought over his departure. She took a drink of her soda before speaking. "No one has ever went that far before to get away from my cooking, Renji."

For a few seconds he simply stared at her until she giggled at him. "Well, maybe they have, but I didn't know it."

"Your cooking is fine, Orihime," he said with a chuckle, rising to his feet as she stood up from the table. "Shit, I thought you were being serious."

She collected the dessert dishes and took them to the kitchen sink. "Maybe I am."

He followed her, leaning back against the counter at the sink as she set the dishes in and rinsed them under the faucet. "I like you're cooking."

She turned to look at him, drying her hands on a dish towel that was decorated with blue and yellow roosters. "You don't have to say that, Renji."

He watched her dry her hands excessively, the towel twisting and wringing in her slender fingers until he was quite sure she'd snuffed the life out of the roosters.

"I know."

She looked down at the towel in her tight grasp and relaxed her grip on it before looking back up to him. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

He shook his head, one hand easing to her waist, watching her eyes lower to the movement and a blush seep into her cheeks as she slowly looked back to him. "I don't know if Captain Kuchiki will allow a full test, Orihime, but I've got one more short set I think he'll agree to."

She nodded, one hand parting from the towel to rest on his arm as he stood away from the counter and pulled her closer, no resistance in her posture as his arm slipped around her waist. "How long will you be gone, Renji?"

He watched her lips as she said his name, her face now close enough that he could feel her breath when she spoke. "Maybe a week."

She nodded as both his arms folded her closer, her pulse jumping as he pressed her to his chest, her hand traveling up his arm as he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. For a moment the pressure was gentle on her mouth, his lips firm against hers as her arm encircled his neck, pulling him nearer, the fingers of her other hand on his shoulder.

For a long moment he kissed her, her lips soft but eager, her lack of practice making her pause once and look to him before her fingers tightened on the nape of his neck with more intent. She made a muted sound beneath the kiss when his arms closed around her in a more powerful embrace and he lifted his face from hers, making her catch her breath, feeling her heartbeat fast against his chest.

"Sorry, Orihime," he said in a low tone, watching her smile through a breathless flush, content to remain close.

"I know you can break me in half, Renji," she said with a soft giggle, fingers light on his skin. "You smell good."

He grinned. "So do you."

She took a fuller breath and sighing against him. "Honeysuckle."

"I like it."

He let her ease away a little, still close, his arms locked loosely around her. For a moment she returned his study, eyes going over his face as his hand pressed to her back, a comfortable warmth on her spine.

He took a deep breath, glancing at the early evening falling through the window over the sink. "I should go now. It's a school night."

She nodded. She pulled from him, his arms reluctantly dropping from around her. She straightened her sweater that had bunched up some against him, and then stooped to pick up the fallen towel from the floor.

She walked him to the door before remembering. "Oh, your ice cream, Renji."

"Keep it."

She paused at the doorframe as he checked the locks there, both with thoughts on the futility of the security hardware.

He looked back to where her eyes were on the locks before raising to him. "I want to know if you feel like he's close again, Orihime."

She nodded, fingers pausing on the deadbolt at the door. "I will."

His hand took her hand from her side, hard fingers taking her smaller ones for a moment before he kissed her lips briefly, bringing a smile from her. "See you soon."

"Goodnight, Renji."

* * *

Urahara had kept to himself the last few days in his basement laboratory. Tessai and the children had left him alone most of the time. Yoruichi had snuck down to see him, interrupting his work and research with distractions of her own resourcefulness, using up his valuable time with her womanly wiles that he knew she knew he couldn't resist for very long.

But those departures aside, there were some very interesting things happening with his test materials involving his newest experiments. Not the least was the analysis of the dead school girl's reiatsu and reiryoku. He'd been able to isolate several strands of very different sources. Most interesting was the influence of one signature. There was no reason Orihime Inoue's spiritual power should be represented in the dead girl's reiryoku make-up, but it was.

"What a confusing and exhilarating discovery," he said to the collection of vials in the stand on the work table beneath the tubular lights overhead. He wanted to know more. A lot more.

Aside from Kurosaki and Uryu Ishida, he wasn't aware of any Living housing more than one form of reiryoku. He wasn't interested in Quincy powers -- not yet, anyway -- and the fact that the dead girl rendered her own minute signature of reiryoku, an Arrancar imprint, and that of Orihime's was very telling. He just wasn't sure what it told him.

"Something impossible," he told himself. "So far."

He'd ruled out contamination from Tessai, himself, and the children, and Yoruichi hadn't been near the girl. Of course, he didn't know who else had come into contact with the girl before she'd been moved from the alley, but he knew Orihime hadn't been near the girl while the body was in his shop.

All it really told him with any certainty was that the girl contained all three signature of reiryoku. It didn't tell him who or what had killed her -- aside from the fall -- but it told him an Arrancar and Orihime had been in the close proximity. Within touching proximity.

A faint yellow, pink, and peach.

He frowned at the collection of vials before him where the diffusing reeds were steeping in each. He wasn't sure what the data actually revealed. He looked beyond his work table to where the shinigami from Twelfth Division lay on a cork mat. Captain Kurotsuchi had given him express written permission to do preliminary sampling on any of his fallen division members, aside from his lieutenant.

Urahara had already run the tests on the male shinigami when his partner from Twelfth had brought him in earlier that morning, and he'd worked since then on isolating the signatures found on the body.

Again, three distinct strands of reiryoku. This time it was the dead shinigami, Arrancar, and the profile belonging to Orihime Inoue. All in the same test specimen, the shinigami from Twelfth.

The heaviest of these was the shinigami's own blue, followed by an Arrancar pink, and a nearly opaque but dense peach color. He knew the peach was Orihime's healing reiatsu, because he'd determined that several days ago.

It was an unsettling trend, Urahara thought with a sigh, which made his attention turn to the poorly-advanced speculation of latent Arrancar tendencies. It was a theory he'd entertained shortly after the War, when Kurosaki had demonstrated so many volatile Hollow traits that had since been reined under control. He'd quickly dissolved the idea out of hand when Kurosaki had restrained his inner Hollow.

Now Urahara gave the theory more thought.

"Kisuke!" Tessai's voice boomed from the top of the stairs. "He's here!"

"Ah, yes, thank you, Tessai! I'll be right up."

He capped the vials carefully with corks, making sure to slip the tops over the reeds snuggly inside.

He doubted Renji would be a willing informant, but it was worth a try.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story. Also, the idea for latent Arrancar tendencies is taken from another fanfiction author's Delayed Soul Modification concept._


	10. In A Name

The sun had barely risen when Grimmjow found Loly and Menoly on the fringe of town that morning, both hovering over a white-robed shinigami who was slumped against a wall as Menoly stood triumphant.

His eyes narrowed at them, crouching unseen at the edge of the four story building two streets from the alley they were in. The morning was still wet on the streets and the once-lower ranked Arrancar were all but crowing about their accomplishment.

"Pathetic and cowardly," he sneered, watching the blonde girl glimpse around at their surroundings. It was nearly comical to him, their efforts at out-powering him, and he would have laughed if it weren't so true. Actually, they were a few rungs up on the power ladder than him.

Well, one rung, at least.

Being able to fully revive after killed was a real plus, and one that he couldn't duplicate. They lacked his speed and strength, but they had other physical abilities he didn't. They'd demonstrated the ease at which they obtained a victim's spiritual powers -- _complete_ spiritual powers -- collecting every drop of reiryoku that left the victim sapped and dead.

He was unsure how they did it, and he didn't much care. Pulling the vital vertebrae from a victim held more satisfaction for Grimmjow; reminiscent of old, better times, which he was beginning to recall with more clarity.

He stood up and turned away from the building's edge and made his way to the opposite side. He wasn't ready yet to confront them now. Not quite.

Thoughts of a compromise with one, or perhaps both, had entered his mind, and while he wasn't the plotting type some of his former now dead colleagues were, he did have a plan.

He remembered enough about his last fight to know he wanted a certain orange-haired shinigami at sword point. A collection of power like that would move him far ahead of either Loly or Menoly, but facing an opponent like Kurosaki was beyond him at present.

"Kurosaki." Grimmjow stopped walking across the rooftop, the name ringing true in his memory.

A cruel smile crossed his lips as he continued on to the roof's opposite side. Now if only he could remember the other name.

Remembering her name wasn't as important as finding her. With the right girl he'd be unstoppable, surpassing those clowns in the alley who'd just slain the shinigami from Twelfth.

He knew it was Twelfth Division, because he'd come to recognize the number on the back by now.

As he recalled, she scared easy enough, but as he also recalled, a sense of loyalty overwhelmed her fear. He'd seen that demonstrated at his fight with Kurosaki. He required her assistance, and if she wouldn't willingly hand it over to him, he'd find other ways of coercing her. If she wasn't afraid for herself, maybe she _would_ be for someone else.

Grimmjow looked down at the four story drop into the next alley, smiled at his newfound capability, and sprung expertly to the ground below.

* * *

Renji waited in the storage room serving as an office of Urahara's shop, arms crossed as he bided his time, frowning at the shelves jammed with jars of questionable contents with no labels. Tessai had called for the shopkeeper who had summoned him half an hour ago, and Urahara had yet to show his face.

He tried to take the wait patiently, but sometimes he got the feeling Urahara liked to lounge around in his basement workshop while people waited for him. After the War, there had been a shift in allies and united fronts, and the lines drawn between the Vizards, the occupants of Urahara's shop, and a few prisoners of war were hazy, at best.

Everyone had gotten what they wanted to an extent with Aizen's defeat. Soul Society stopped the destruction of Karakura Town and disabled Aizen's immediate plans. The Vizards and residents of Urahara's shop were on amicable terms, in most matters.

Kaname Tousen had perished under his own former lieutenant's sense of justice, which made for good conversation among the barracks of every Division in Soul Society. Gin Ichimaru had been taken prisoner and had been seen only a few times, but Renji knew information was eking out of the former captain about Aizen and the new Realm.

He didn't know if the information came out willingly or by other indelicate means, but it was there. He figured it was the former, as he and everyone else had noticed a certain auburn haired female shinigami with a regular visitation schedule to the high security cell of Ichimaru.

"Five more minutes," Renji muttered, irritation rising as he looked around the dimly lit room, letting his thoughts turn to more inviting matters of the evening before.

He'd never had raspberries with tomatoes before, and he wasn't sure it was good, but it hadn't been bad, either. The evening hadn't gone as he expected it would. He hadn't planned to kiss Orihime, had barely planned anything beyond getting the ice cream to her apartment before it melted.

He couldn't blame it on anything out of the ordinary, not the usual things he thought to blame it on. The music had been those silly poppish tunes, she wasn't dressed much differently than he'd always seen her in street clothes, and she hadn't said anything leading or done anything to entice him closer.

He scowled, but didn't mean it as he realized kissing her had been something he'd been wanting to do for a while. Not hanging out in the front of his mind getting in the way of business, but lurking somewhere in the back he didn't usually visit.

"That's not true," he said aloud, then turned to look at the doorway as Urahara stepped in. "That's damn stupid."

"Ah, making judgments on me before I even say anything, Renji?" the shopkeeper asked with a grin.

Renji frowned at him. "Yes."

"Hmm, wait until I say something stupid before you tell me, will you?" Urahara scratched his head beneath the striped hat, looking around at the shelves as if he were new to the room. "I need you to bring Miss Inoue by after she gets out of school today, okay?"

Defensiveness slipped over Renji. "Why? Are you scheduling some healing needing to be done?"

Urahara felt in his pocket for his fan, but it was missing, so he smiled in what he'd been told was a charming manner. "Now that you mention it, I'm thinking about it. Have Miss Yoruichi scare up an injured cat for us, for a demo, you know."

Renji put his hands on his hips, frowning. "You mean you're going to injure a cat so Orihime can heal it."

Urahara shrugged and sighed, stepping back to the doorway as a bell rung over the front door of the shop. "Can you do that for me? Bring her by?"

Renji followed him into the hall, tempted to demand more of an answer out of the man walking in front of him. "I'll _ask_ her."

"We had a member from Twelfth brought in early this morning," Urahara said, stopping abruptly and turning to Renji, the lilt absent from his voice now. "Robbed of all reiryoku, white as snow. Funny part is, there were three distinct types of reiatsu hanging off him. Same with the school girl from the other day. An anomaly I'd like to study more in-depth."

"What's that got to do with Orihime?"

"Oh, I was just making conversation."

Renji shook his head. "No, you weren't."

Urahara shrugged and turned back down the hall as Tessai's voice came from the shop front ahead. "Will you bring her by?"

Renji followed more thoughtfully, unsure the shopkeeper was actually hiding something or simply being the self-imposed enigma he liked to be. He muttered a curse, hating to appear uninformed. "What were the ... compositions?"

"Signatures?"

Renji growled down a curse. "Yes. Signatures, or whatever the hell you call them."

"The victims' and Arrancar, definitely."

Renji waited for the third, but Urahara paused at the curtains dividing the hall from the front of the shop. "And?"

Urahara shrugged. "Funny thing about the Living. Their reiatsu and reiryoku tend to mix well with other --"

"The girl was Living. How many Living types were in her signature?" Renji asked pointedly.

Urahara's face remained unreadable. "Funny thing, Living signatures, Renji."

Renji glared at him for a moment, hating the smugness in the shopkeeper's tone. "Straight answer, Urahara."

The other man shrugged again. "Two."

"Meaning?"

"Two Living and one Arrancar strains were represented. That's all, Abarai."

Renji nodded slowly, and then turned back down the hall to the shop's rear exit.

"You'll tell her to come by?" Urahara called after him.

Renji reached the back screen door and shoved through it, jarring the hinges as he scowled at a stray cat slinking around the back stoop. "You better scram," he told it brusquely before calling back into the shop, "I'll see what I can do!"

* * *

Orihime was oblivious to the conversation at Urahara's shop earlier that morning as she broke from the pack of classmates after school that sunny afternoon. The day was crisply cooler than the last few, putting a skip in her step despite the heavy load of school books in her bag at her back. She smiled, hurrying on.

Not all the skip was due to the weather, and she knew why.

In fact, she'd spent a good deal of the school day trying not to think of why.

"Hey, Orihime!" Kon greeted her with an enthusiastic wave as his bouncy gait caught up with her, wearing Ichigo's goofiest smile.

She tried not to cringe. "Hi. Did you get all the homework?"

He smiled wider and nodded, long strides matching her shorter ones. "Ichigo spends too much time studying. He should be enjoying these wonderful teen years."

She gave him a tepid smile. "Kurosaki-kun is a good student and he works hard. You should try it."

Kon threw off a wave, eyes going to across the street where Tatsuki had already dashed for her karate practice earlier. He looked around at the sidewalk of students and people, and then up at the street signs. "Aren't you going the wrong way?"

She'd been hoping he wouldn't notice. "Oh, I wanted to find a shortcut. That's all."

He stuck his hands in his pockets, jaunty gait making the loose change in Ichigo's pants pockets jangle. "I don't think this is shorter."

"Oh, it is, up ahead." Orihime didn't feel like telling him she preferred to take alternate routes to and from school the last few days. She didn't know if it would help any, but she felt a little safer not taking the same ways every day. Just in case Grimmjow was patrolling. She had only seen him on the market streets, and she wanted to keep it that way. She pointed down a secondary street they come up to at an intersection. "I think that way will take you to the Kurosaki Clinic."

He looked down the sidewalk as they came up to the street adjoining. "Yeah? Okay. Thanks, Orihime."

She smiled in relief that he'd taken the hint. "See you tomorrow."

"Okay!" He split off down the sidewalk before thinking her dismissal through. "Bye!"

She sighed as he left, blowing a strand of auburn hair out of her eyes. Sometimes Kon wasn't so easy to get rid of, and she didn't feel like fighting off his persistent invitations to dinner.

She'd rather think about her last dinner guest. A blush rose over her cheeks when she thought back on the preceding day. She crossed the street with the other students and followed the next sidewalk. Her fingers edged up one book bag strap as she looked to the rooftops of the buildings around her.

Most days she caught a glimpse of Renji at some time during her walk home, but there was no sign of him today, and her smile dimmed at his absence. Before her mind could make up plausible as well as outlandish explanations as to why, a chill met her spine.

Her steps slowed, eyes going to the opposite side of the street where the sidewalk ran parallel. No one else seemed to feel the distinct change in the weather, all still on their respective ways, no one giving her a second look.

She frowned and veered closer to the buildings to her right, mostly store fronts with the occasional alley. Her spine felt as if it had been frozen, making moving almost painful, her hands beginning to shake with either fear or cold.

She looked to the sidewalk across the street, seeing no one but everyday people, and then turned slowly to check behind her. No one out of the ordinary. Her eyes went to the tops of the buildings around her, but this time they sought out a familiar Espada rather than Renji.

Out of panic she turned into the next alley she came to, relieved it was bright and cleaner than most alleys, a narrow street that opened at the other end into another block of buildings. She hurried down it, her heart thumping faster as her mind became numbly cold. She'd passed halfway down the alley when a breath of cold air frosted over her neck, making her halt. She whirled around, expecting to see no one, but there he was, just entering the alley from the sidewalk.

Grimmjow's eyes were locked on her as she remained immobile for a few seconds, and then his gait quickened.

Orihime broke into a run, her steps fleet on the alley pavement as she reached the end and turned into the next equally narrow street and darted down it, only to find it was a dead end. She looked up at the four story buildings around her, mostly residential housing, and then glanced to Grimmjow as he entered the alley behind her. For a few agonizing seconds he methodically watched her as she willed herself to move. She lunged for the lowest of the metal staircases that zigzagged up the four stories of the back of the building, and raced up them.

Her heart was fast against her ribs, aching as she climbed, her fears renewed when she heard footsteps reach the steps behind her and begin climbing. She hurried on, not chancing a glance behind her until she was at the top of the staircases, hearing the steps behind her stop, but when she turned he was nowhere to be seen. Her pulse raced on as her eyes searched the stairs below her, the cold in her back paralyzing.

"Your name," Grimmjow said suddenly from behind her.

Orihime spun around, shocked to see him so near. She backed up onto the rooftop, her shoes catching on the uneven shingles.

He stepped closer, his strides increasing as she backed away swiftly. "What's your name?"

She shook her head, her breath falling short of gasping, moving to the center of the rooftop. "What do you want?"

He stopped, a slow grin crossing his face at the sound of her words. "I know that voice."

She shook her head again more forcefully, feet inching back to the building's edge.

"What's your name?"

Orihime kept her eyes on his, the cold in her back seeming to spread across her shoulders, down her arms to her hands and fingers. She let her gaze shift to one side, whimpering as she saw the alley below, making her reverse advance halt.

She looked back quickly as Grimmjow's hand clutched her sweater and blouse at her tie, nearly lifting her from her feet. "Let me go!"

His eyes dropped to her hands as they grasped his wrist, and then rose to her face. "What's your name?"

She shook her head, holding his stare.

"Say it!"

She choked down her name, fingers prying on his steel-like hand.

"Do you really want me to let go?"

Her hands stilled on his as he shoved her back to the roof edge, her feet desperate to remain on the surface.

"Your name!"

She swallowed. "What do you want?"

He frowned at her, eyes searching hers. "You know who I am?"

Orihime wanted to shake her head, but she found herself nodding subtly. It was enough for him.

"Say my name."

She tried to take a breath in the choking hold as her vest and blouse cut off her breathing.

"Say it!"

She felt her feet leave the rooftop as he shoved her a few inches back, making her hands grasp his wrist, a cry escaping her. "Grimmjow."

Recollection crossed his face, a leering grin as he nodded. "Even better." He studied her for a moment, returning her loathsome expression for one of curiosity. "You're not afraid to die. Why not?"

"I am," she gasped, holding his stare.

He shook his head and then looked down for a few seconds before his attention returned to her. "Promise me anything I ask of you."

She frowned, a moment of clarity making her shake her head.

"Promise me!"

She shook her head, dreading the moment she'd be in the air and then on the alley pavement.

"You will next time. Remember, I can drop you at any time in the future, too," he said lowly, taking a step closer to the edge, her full body weight straining at the vest and blouse. He looked down past her dangling legs, eyes resting on something before going back to her. "Don't die on the way down." He grinned, laughing. "Orihime Inoue."

He enjoyed the look of terror that crossed her face as his hand relaxed.

Orihime's shriek died in her throat, panic strangling any sound she tried to make as she felt herself fall, thinking oddly that her skirt was now flying up, how heavy her book bag was, that she hadn't finished the beadwork, that Tatsuki didn't know she'd taken a different way home, that she'd never get to live any of her dreams.

Of Ichigo. Of Renji.

She didn't know if she'd closed her eyes or if she passed out before she reached the pavement, and it didn't matter as her body came to an abrupt stop in an encompassing embrace.

She wasn't aware of Renji catching her halfway down the ground floor of the building. He'd barely gotten out of his gigai and left the alley pavement when he'd seen Grimmjow drop her.

He looked down at her still form, and then knelt to one knee, moving a hand to her neck to find a skyrocketing pulse. He held her close, feeling her racing heartbeat against his chest, as he looked back up at the figure at the top of the fourth story.

Grimmjow stepped back out of sight. Renji's eyes narrowed on the Espada as he swallowed down thoughts of pursuit, pulling Orihime's unconscious form closer.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to all who took the time to review/favorite this story.


	11. Unpromise

Orihime awoke shortly later as Renji settled her on the futon of his apartment living room. He rested her back against the upright cushion of the futon, watching her open her eyes slowly, her hand going to her face, rubbing at the few wild strands of hair that had become windblown on her fall down to street level.

He pushed her hair from her eyes as she squinted at him, confusion making her blink a few times. She looked to each of his eyes before sitting more upright abruptly.

"Did you see him?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper over the enka music coming from Mrs. Tanaka's apartment below. She cleared her throat. "Did you see him, Renji?"

He nodded and sat beside her. "Are you all right, Orihime?"

She nodded, looking to the floor's rag rug, crossing her arms over her chest, both hands rubbing her opposite upper arms. "I remember falling, but ..." She looked to him, eyes going from his black robes to his face. "You caught me?"

He nodded, watching her fingers grip her blouse sleeves tightly. "Are you cold?"

She nodded, and he put a hand to her back against the futon cushion, feeling the vest cool to his touch. He rubbed along her spine, frowning at the chill that seeped through even her double layer of clothing. All the way home he thought she felt cool in his arms, never quite warming up despite holding her close.

"It's always like that when he's near," she mumbled, stifling a shiver.

"I'll get you another shirt to put on."

He stood up and she rested against the cushion.

"I don't need another shirt, Renji. I'll get warm in a moment." She pressed her back to the futon, trying to smile. "Thanks for being there."

He nodded, looking down at her, seeing no immediate damage to her, physically. "Are you sure about the shirt?"

She nodded, trying harder to smile.

He sat beside her again, leaning his elbows on his knees as he turned to look at her. "What happened? What were you doing way over on that side of the neighborhood?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then tried to explain her walk home. He listened as she told him her logic in finding different routes to and from school and about Grimmjow's appearance from seemingly nowhere. Her voice steadied as she spoke, pausing a few times to make sure she got the order of events correct.

"That's all he asked? Your name?" he asked when she finished.

Hesitancy clouded her eyes as her fingers tightened on one arm, lips pursing at the rest of the Espada's demands. "No, but ... I don't understand any of it." She sighed and leaned forward beside him, straightening the hem of her skirt over her knees. She told him about Grimmjow's demand that she promise to aid him in whatever he asked. "But I said no," she added hurriedly, reading the alarm in his face. "I won't."

He frowned, finding her hazel eyes more steely than he'd previously credited her. "You told Grimmjow _no_? Shit, Orihime, that'll piss him off good."

She nodded. "He said I'd promise him the next time and that he could drop me at any time." She sighed and looked to the hem of her skirt in her fingers, frowning. "And that's when he did."

He put a hand to her back again, this time feeling warmth from beneath her vest and blouse that had been absent previously. "Getting warm?"

She nodded, a smile coming to her lips. She sat straighter, looking down at her rumpled bow and two buttons that had come unfastened under Grimmjow's assault earlier. She put a hand to the tie. "Can I use your bathroom for a moment?"

He nodded and stood up, gesturing to the small room across from his bedroom against the opposite wall. "Make yourself at home, Orihime."

"Thanks."

She stood and went to the bathroom, glancing at the doorless doorway to his room. She looked at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "You don't have a door on your bedroom?"

"Ah, no, it's been like that since I moved in," he said without really explaining anything. "I don't know why. Tanaka-san never said why."

"Oh."

He watched her disappear into the small room and close the door most of the way before he went into his own room and looked out the window at Urahara's shop over the fence. The place looked as unassuming as it always did, with Jinta and Ururu arguing about sweeping the back porch as usual in the late afternoon sunlight.

From the apartment below came a shift in the enka music a level down from his landlady's floor, the old woman's off-key wheezing tone blending with the female singer's ballad. As he watched out the window, Jinta spotted Renji and made a beeline for the fence, topping it agilely.

Renji had half a mind to close the window before the boy could throw the first rock he pulled from his pocket. The boy wound up and pitched a rock straight for the window, thunking off the frame.

"I'm right here!" Renji yelled at him as the boy sat on the fence top. "Cut it out, Jinta!"

"You were supposed to bring Miss Inoue over!" Jinta kept his balance as he scrounged around in his pants pocket for another rock.

"Not today! Maybe tomorrow!"

The boy threw another rock and Renji caught it this time. Jinta's eyes grew wider and he leaped off the fence and ran out of sight as Renji took aim to return the rock. Instead he set the rock on the chair seat at the end of his futon.

"Are you throwing things at Jinta?" Orihime asked from the doorway, giggling a little.

Renji turned to look at her. "Not yet." He grinned at her composed appearance as she touched her smoothed hair.

"I hope you don't mind I used your comb, Renji. My hair looked like a tumbleweed."

"It wasn't that bad." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching her stand in the doorway, looking timidly around the room. "You can come in, Orihime."

She smiled a little and stepped in, eyes going over the cream walls bare of any decoration, to the small three drawer dresser to the futon that was folded out and hastily made. "I should get going home. I have a lot of homework and a preliminary exam at the end of the week. Tatsuki is coming over after practice to study. She doesn't want to end up in cram school again."

He nodded, wishing she'd come closer of her own volition. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She gave him a brighter smile. "Yes, and thanks again, Renji, for being there."

"I wish I'd been there earlier." He debated telling her about Urahara's summons, but decided against it. "Let's go."

* * *

It was an uneventful walk back to Orihime's apartment building, but both she and Renji were alert to any disturbance in the spiritual forces around them. The wind had picked up, bringing more of a chill to the air, and Orihime was glad for the extra bulk of the bag on her back that acted as insulation.

Over the course of the walk conversation had turned from the afternoon's unsettling encounter with Grimmjow, eventually leading to Orihime's duration at Hueco Mundo. At first she was reluctant to talk about the time of ill memories, but after a little coaxing, she relayed more of what she could remember of the experience to Renji.

He'd heard some of it piecemeal before from reports he'd seen at Soul Society and what Captain Kuchiki had let him become privy to, but hearing it from her own lips gave the captivity a personal slant that brought out the raw reality of being prisoner to Aizen.

Her voice grew distant as she recalled her confinement, and he tried to make his questions count, but as she relived Grimmjow's demand that she heal Kurosaki so they could fight on equal grounds, Renji wanted more details.

"You're saying he wanted a fair fight, and you refused to heal Ichigo?" he asked as they crossed to the last block before her apartment building.

She nodded, content that he was still at her side despite the relative safety Karakura Town generally offered. "I wasn't going to heal Kurosaki-kun just so he could be wounded again. Grimmjow was just fighting to fight; I don't think Aizen-san was behind most of his actions then. All of the Arrancars were doing just as they pleased, Renji. It was scary and strange at the same time, like it wasn't really happening at all. Like a horrible dream. The whole place was like a nightmare."

"You never should have gone, Orihime," he said slowly as she nodded, eyes on the sidewalk before them. He put a hand to her shoulder where the vest ended and her thinner blouse began, this time the material beneath his hand warm to the touch. "Not cold any more?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath, but focus remaining on the pavement. "Better now."

He nodded, mind staying on the erratic behavior she'd detailed by both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. "But you did heal Ichigo."

She sighed, some of the discomfort leasing her eyes again as she looked to the apartment building they were nearing. "Kurosaki-kun told me to, so I did it."

"Today when you told Grimmjow no," he said, wishing he'd seen the look on the Espada's face, among other things, "he didn't tell you any more about what he wanted you to promise?"

She shook her head as they stopped before the apartment building entry and he opened the door. "I can't do much of anything, Renji, except heal. He knows that."

They went inside and followed the stairs leading to her floor, the passage devoid of any other traffic. "Did he mention Aizen at all?"

"No."

He searched his memory for more information on what he'd read in reports pertaining to her stay at Las Noches. "Didn't you heal Grimmjow at some point while you were there?"

She nodded, frowning at the incident as they reached her floor and turned down the hall. "I restored his arm. Aizen-san wanted a demonstration of my abilities. Tousen-san had destroyed Grimmjow's arm for disobeying Aizen-san. It displeased Aizen-san, and he wanted it restored." She looked up at him. "I rarely saw Grimmjow there, Renji. Only a few times."

He looked farther down the hall to where the pop music was faint, accompanied by a girl's low grumbling voice around the corner. "That must be what he wants then, Orihime. It's possible he's gotten booted out of Aizen's service and isn't acting under anyone's command. Just a loose cannon raising hell in Karakura."

She laughed a little, rolling her eyes. "That almost makes me feel better."

He grinned as they turned down the next hall. "Yeah? How?"

She shrugged, smiling more. "If he's been kicked out of -- what is it now? The Realm? -- then he can't try to take me back."

"No one is taking you back, Orihime. Be sure of that."

She was going to comment on his remark, but Tatsuki's voice became recognizable. "There you are!" the dark-haired girl said from farther down the hall as Orihime and Renji turned the corner and continued to her apartment. "I was wondering where you were, 'Hime." She looked to Renji, slinging her bag strap over her shoulder. "Hey, Abarai-san."

He nodded. "Hi, Arisawa-san."

Orihime smiled wider at her. "You're early, Tatsuki."

"Yeah, Yuki broke his nose on a board that flipped back and we all got dismissed early," Tatsuki explained, glancing to Renji suspiciously. "It's Tatsuki," she emphasized, eyes on his shinigami robes.

He nodded as Orihime unlocked the door and opened it. "It's Renji."

She shrugged, looking back to Orihime as they all went into the apartment. "What's up? You got trouble?"

Renji let the girls carry the conversation between them as Orihime shut the door behind them and they deposited their book bags at the futon's low table, their voices quick but hushed, barely discernible over the pop music from the next apartment. Renji went to the street side window near the desk where he'd first seen Orihime sitting two weeks previous, eyes going over the street and sidewalk outside.

There was little to see, a few children wandering and playing, a couple of cats, which made him think back on his last conversation with Urahara, but no Espada lurking in the corners or on rooftops.

He looked back to where Orihime and Tatsuki had grown quiet, both watching him from the table.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Orihime asked him hopefully, nodding as if to help him answer.

He was tempted to, but declined. "Thanks, but I'll go now."

He went to the door, feeling Orihime follow close by, making an effort to keep the concern from her voice when she spoke.

"She wouldn't mind you staying, Renji," she said when he stopped at the door.

He nodded. "I'd like to keep an eye on things for a while. She'll be here with you?"

"We have to study." She shifted a look to where Tatsuki was in the kitchenette, pretending not to watch them as she brought out two glasses from a cupboard. "If she ends up in cram school before her next tournament it'll cut too much time out of practice."

He nodded, taking the tips of her fingers in his hand, just enough to bring a slight blush to her face, grinning as her fingers curled over his. "Do you want Rukia to stay with you tonight? She will, you know."

"Oh, no, I'm okay now, Renji. I won't take that way home again. And he doesn't know where I live, and if I'm careful he won't find out, and I will be careful," she murmured more as a promise to herself. "I'm okay now."

"All right." He let her hand slip from his and opened the door. "Urahara-san wants to see you when you have time, but no hurry, okay?"

"Oh, okay. Thanks, Renji."

"I'll see you soon."

She nodded, and he left. She locked the door's locks and looked back to Tatsuki, hoping to appear nonchalant about her earlier ordeal that she planned to keep to herself. And Renji.

Tatsuki knew her too well. "You're all flustered, Orihime. Is it because of him or did something else happen today?"

Orihime gave her a weak smile. "How was practice?"

* * *

Renji spent the next few hours at the rooftop of Orihime's apartment building, eyes alert on the streets below and rooftops around him as the sun drifted westward. There was no sign of Grimmjow or any other spiritual force. Not until a slight wave of spent reiatsu drifted from the south side of town, but he recognized it as Kurosaki, and got the message a moment later on his Soul Society communicator between two Division Twelve members about a trio of Hollows being put down.

As dusk settled over the town he saw Tatsuki head for home down the sidewalk, and followed her for a while without her knowledge, watching her take the turns into a nice neighborhood near the Kurosaki Clinic. Determining she was safe, Renji made his way back to Orihime's apartment, hovering outside her center window street side until he heard the shower run in her bathroom, and decided against further surveillance, as it would have been considered more voyeuristic than helpful.

He crossed town and found his gigai where he'd left it earlier that afternoon -- where Grimmjow had intended for Orihime to make impact on the alley pavement -- and resumed its form and headed for his own apartment.

Actually, he was quite sure Grimmjow hadn't wanted Orihime to die from his dropping her onto the alley pavement. When he'd seen her dangled over his head that afternoon Renji's only thought had been of intercepting her, but even in those few seconds he knew the Espada wasn't attempting to kill the girl.

He'd seen Grimmjow make eye contact, positioning Orihime directly over Renji in the alley, as if making sure Renji knew his intentions even if Orihime didn't.

"Scare tactics," Renji muttered as he pulled off his t-shirt in his apartment bedroom early that evening and tossed it onto the futon. "Lousy bastard."

It had worked, too.

Well, not entirely, he thought. It hadn't been enough to frighten Orihime into promising, into agreeing carte blanche to whatever it was the Espada wanted, and he had to credit her for that. He knew a lot of shinigami who would have folded under that sort of fear.

It meant a few things to Renji.

He knew Grimmjow wanted Orihime alive, and he probably wanted her abilities as a healer -- she wasn't much of a fighter.

But Grimmjow didn't know where she lived, not yet, so there was some safety in that.

It also meant he'd be back.

Renji winced as he listened to Mrs. Tanaka's warbling singing to the enka music as turned on the bathroom's shower water and let it get hot, something he'd learned took a while in the third floor apartment.

He decided to move up his trip to Soul Society, request permission to be assigned to the area covering Orihime's apartment building while he obliged Urahara's gigai testing.

He got undressed and into the shower, the not quite hot enough water failing to steam up the air, making him invent new curses. He pulled out his hair-tie and snapped it over the shower curtain, only to hear a muted '_Hey'_ from the small room.

He frowned and pulled back the shower curtain, keeping a good portion of it from exposing his lower body to whoever had wandered in.

"Wet dog," Rukia grumbled at him from the doorway, rubbing the side of her head where the hair-tie had fired, dressed in her shinigami robes.

He frowned at her as the shower wasted the tepid water on his back. "What're you doing here?"

"Are you alone?"

"Damn it, yes, Rukia." He pulled the shower curtain back to block his view of her. "What do you want?"

"I got a report that Grimmjow dropped someone over the side of a building today."

He heard a shuffling sound, frowning as he tried to recognize it, guessing at what she could possibly be doing. "Yeah? Who did you hear it from?"

"A report over the communicator, from Twelfth. They didn't say it was Grimmjow, but the description fit him." More sounds of _something_. "You got any money, Renji? I'm thinking pizza."

He looked out the shower curtain again to see her going through the pockets of his jeans. "Hey, what about Ichigo? Make him treat you."

"He's working late at the clinic. Big pile up from the Hollows earlier today." She smiled, holding up his wallet. "You can indulge me with a pizza and tell me about your day."

He closed the curtain more and resumed his shower. She wasn't his first choice for a dinner companion, but he decided a feminine opinion might be beneficial in the matter coursing through his mind. After all, his captain was her brother.

"It was you in the alley, wasn't it, Renji? The description fits you, unless there's another shinigami out there with firecracker hair. Poor Twelfth probationaries -- don't even know a lieutenant when they see one."

"Yeah, it was me." Renji looked at the plastic shelf that hung over the shower head, realizing he hadn't brought a new bar of soap. He dug the splinter of the remaining soap out of the bottom shelf, frowning at what remained of it.

"Was the girl dead?" Rukia asked, and then giggled. "Hey, is this the best I.D. photo Urahara could get of you?"

Renji decided against the answers he wanted to give her, hating the really bad photo in his walled I.D. "Yes."

"Did you get there in time for her?" This time there was a genuine concern in Rukia's tone.

Renji closed his eyes as he recalled the moment Orihime had landed safely in his arms, her unconscious body limp and defenseless against the entity that had dropped her four stories above, knowing he should resume washing before the piece of soap disappeared completely.

"It was Orihime, Rukia."

There was an awed moment of silence. "No, shit, Renji?"

"No shit."

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story!_


	12. Bluffing

Yuki's broken nose was the talk of the classroom the next morning before school started. He stood in the midst of the other students gathered around his desk, nose blue and slightly swollen with a dark red line crossing the bridge of it, enjoying his newfound attention as he relayed the incident in a nasally voice.

Orihime watched him exaggerate, knowing he was embellishing because she'd heard the story already from Tatsuki the day before. Tatsuki was part of Yuki's captive audience, shaking her head, eyes rolling at his descriptions, arms crossed over her chest as the boy recounted the event.

Orihime looked up from her doodling on the notebook page as Ichigo sat in the desk seat in front of her, turning to face her. She quickly flipped to a different page in the notebook, realizing he'd probably recognize or guess at what the lightning bolt on the page really was.

"Hi, Kurosaki-kun," she said with a slight blush, fingers smoothing the page of math equations in the notebook.

"Hi, Orihime," he said, looking at the page without much real interest before his attention went to her. "Are you all right?"

She smiled, knowing what he was referring to. "I'm fine. Renji was there."

He nodded, sighing as he glanced to the window. "I'm sorry Grimmjow got to you, Orihime. He's getting bolder, but he's not picking fights. It doesn't make any sense."

She nodded, glancing to the classroom door as it opened.

He leaned his elbows on her desk near the notebook edge. "You've got to let me know, Orihime," he said in a serious tone. "These rookies from Twelfth don't know what they're doing out there and it's dangerous."

She nodded, her pen tracing over one of the math equations. "I'm being careful, Kurosaki-kun."

"I know you are." He glanced to where the teacher was entering the room, urgency making him speak quickly. "Don't agree to anything unless you have to."

Her eyes shot to his. "I'm not promising him anything. Ever."

He shook his head slowly. "You might have to, Orihime. I'm not saying you'd have to carry through with anything, but bluffing wouldn't hurt."

She frowned as they stood for the teacher approaching the front of class. "I'd be a traitor to everyone who survived the War if I agreed to anything for Grimmjow, Kurosaki-kun."

They both faced front and made a slight bow to the teacher with the rest of the class.

"No one would ever know."

The students drifted to their assigned seats.

"I'd know," she said as he looked to his desk. "You'd know. Lot's of people would know."

He nodded, scowling as he looked to the window running the length of the wall again. "They'd understand."

She shook her head as he moved away to return to his own seat. She sat down again with the rest of the class and looked to the teacher as she addressed them for the first assignment of the day.

Orihime's thoughts were far from the words coming out of the teacher's mouth, drifting to the truthfulness in Ichigo's suggestion. She knew he was right, but she didn't like thinking about it. She'd never before made a promise she hadn't intended to keep, but it was also very possible Grimmjow would demand something of her no one else had asked.

_Not quite_, Tsubaki's voice said from her right hairclip. _You've promised before_.

"That was different," she said beneath her breath, hating that the male spirit always cornered her during class. "I was going to keep that promise to Ulquiorra-san, to a certain degree."

_You aligned yourself to Aizen, too_, Tsubaki reminded.

She gave him a sharp look, watching him float just within her peripheral vision. "I would have never hurt my friends." She looked away from the Tsubaki's scowling face to see Ichigo watching her and the spirit. She gave him a smile and then frowned at Tsubaki. "We'll talk later."

_You wouldn't have needed someone to catch you if you practiced with us more,_ he said. _Since the War you've neglected us._

_You only call us out for Urahara-san_, Ayami and Shuno said in unison from the other side of her head.

Orihime frowned at them, her voice lowering. "Can we talk about this later? I'm in class."

_You didn't even attempt us with Santen Kesshun,_ Lily's timid voice piped up. _We could've helped you._

"Not now," Orihime whispered as the teacher looked her way. "Zangetsu never bothers Kurosaki-kun in class."

That was enough for the spirits, who departed back into her hairclips as Orihime gave the teacher her most attentive look. Once the teacher had turned back to the white board, Orihime sighed, knowing Ichigo was right. Promising the former Espada might be the only way to pacify him; it didn't mean she'd have to actually follow through with anything.

She frowned at the notebook before her as the teacher spoke at the front of the room. After a moment she felt the weight of Uryu's stare and looked to him, returning a small smile to his pensive look. He slowly turned his attention to the teacher.

She knew Tsubaki was telling the truth. She had neglected them since the War was over. She'd tried to go back to a normal life after her time in Las Noches, but it was impossible to forget some of what had happened there, and at the same time difficult to remember everything that had happened. She'd seen too much, had seen the darkest side of Ichigo, felt fear of him as she'd never known before, saw him impale Uryu.

Memories of that murky day still haunted her. She looked to Uryu. They haunted him, too, despite his cordiality with Ichigo. She knew there were many in Soul Society who had misgivings about Ichigo Kurosaki after the War. They'd had doubts about her, too, and she'd spent weeks being questioned about her allegiances.

She didn't want those doubts back in her life, and promising Grimmjow _anything_ would start it all over again.

She was determined not to give even the slightest impression of aiding Grimmjow, but the more she thought about it that afternoon, the more she couldn't see any way around it unless he was removed from the vicinity, and soon. She hated even thinking of the idea, but it was still on her mind after school when she got back to her apartment under Ichigo's chaperone. She almost wished the music from the next apartment was louder to block out her thoughts. Ichigo didn't linger to visit, and she didn't try too hard to get him to stay. Not like she used to want to.

In her bedroom her eyes fell to her school uniform skirt draped over the closet door knob. She hurriedly changed into a pair of navy pants and a pink knit tank top, and then pulled a periwinkle sweater over the last item. The small rip in the waistband of the school skirt from her encounter with Grimmjow had yet to be mended, and she was not looking forward to the small chore. It wasn't the mending itself; just the thoughts behind it that made her delay doing it. But she'd have to do it, as she needed the skirt.

She went to the bathroom and combed out her hair, smiling at her reflection as she thought back on using Renji's comb, thinking herself silly for wanting to.

"My hair _was_ a mess," she said aloud, almost fearing Tsubaki to answer her. He didn't. She figured he was probably still miffed.

After a few moments she became aware of Renji outside.

Or in the hall. She wasn't sure which, still not quite attuned to him.

But she was getting closer.

She went into the living room and stood by the desk, eyes going from the door to the street side window until she decided on the door. She went there and unlocked the locks, and opened the door a few inches to see him standing outside.

"You want to come in?" she asked brightly, opening the door more.

"Hey, you're getting good at those womanly intuitions," he said as stepped into the room and she shut the door behind him, locking it.

She smiled, sticking her hands in her back pockets. "You think so?"

He grinned, shrugging. "It's either that or I'm noisier than I thought."

She giggled, and then her face dropped. "No one is hurt, are they?"

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "Nothing like that. But Urahara does want to move things along, if you've got the time, and I wanted to take a look at your stove."

She looked to the range. "Okay. Are you hungry?"

"No, not that kind of a look at it." He followed her into the kitchen and they stood appraising the small stove, he frowning at it. "According to Tessai, there can only be so many things wrong with the burners."

She stood beside him as they pondered the four burners. "Two of them don't work."

He nodded and wiggled the two he'd seen unused from when she'd invited him to dinner. "These two?"

She nodded.

He leaned over the appliance, mumbling at the non-functioning elements. She hovered next to him, eyes on where the burners inserted beneath the stove top.

"We can lift the top," she offered, running her fingers beneath the edge of the stove top lip at the front. She pressed a hidden lever and pulled up on the top where it was hinged at the back. She snapped loose the metal rod at the side and hooked it to a slot in the top, holding it open to expose the underside of the burners.

He chuckled. "You're rather handy, Orihime."

She smiled as he examined the burner connections. "So are you."

"Maybe not. I haven't fixed anything yet."

It took a few minutes to figure out how to remove the elements, and Renji used most of his patience up before realizing they were detached by squeezing the two prongs that held them wedged into the line beneath the stove top rather than needing to be simply wrenched out.

"You told Ichigo about Grimmjow?" he asked, pulling one coiled burner free from its prong base as she leaned on the counter side by him, eyes on the stove's underworkings.

She nodded. "Rukia told him earlier. Have you seen or heard anything of him?"

He shook his head and eased the second burner out of its slot, frowning at the two spiral elements. He looked to her, and then to his hands, which weren't as dirty as he'd expected. Nor was the stove, making him decide she was either one clean cook or a very messy one that cleaned a lot. He nudged her side with his elbow when she leaned closer to see where the prong housings fit.

She stood back, giggling.

"Did you get cold today?"

She shook her head, leaning her back to the counter and sticking both hands in her back pockets. "Kurosaki-kun suggested I agree to whatever Grimmjow wants."

He hated to hear her say the words, but nodded, eyes going back to the burners. "It might be a good idea to make him think you're agreeing, Orihime. At least he'd tell you what he wants," he said as she began to protest. He set the burners on the counter, estimating her pout. "Hopefully it won't get that far. We'll find him and take him out before he confronts you again."

"He's weak right now, Renji, but not stupid," she said with a frown.

He nodded, watching her eyes cloud with uncertainty. "Smart enough to know not to pick a fight with anyone but the inexperienced and weaker shinigami."

"It would be a good time to put him down."

He nodded, reaching around her waist to pull one hand from her back pocket. "If he's got the resolve to wait until Ichigo is healed to make it a fair fight he might not allow us to provoke a fight out of him before he's ready."

She stepped closer as he drew her nearer, not fighting the smile that played on her lips. "He's got an ego, I know that. It might get the best of him."

"It might."

She bit her lower lip a little as his arm settled around her more comfortably, her eyes on his. "I didn't see you after school today."

"Urahara was wrapping up some questions about this last gigai test. Ichigo saw you home?"

She nodded, her smile changing as his eyes fell to her lips. She let herself settle against him, his arms loosely around her, content to remain close as she looked up at him, studying his face for long moment. Her arms came around his back, feeling his hands press her closer to him, unsure if it was musk or some other aftershave she smelled on him, and not caring either way.

He kissed her lightly at first, her mouth yielding to his, small hands on his back pulling him closer, fingers clutching at his t-shirt as the kiss turned more intense. This time she didn't object when his arms tightened around her, responding only with fingers gathering the material of his shirt into small scrunches.

They parted for a breath, his hand sliding up her back beneath her hair, surprised at its silkiness.

"I'm supposed to be escorting you to Urahara's shop," he said in a low tone.

She smiled, eyes softening on his as she leaned against him fully, watching him grin at the movement. "I guess we should go then, Renji."

He held her close for a moment longer, surprised at the ease at which she remained in his arms, without reservation, making him wish he'd taken up on his own offer to retrieve her from Hueco Mundo when he first learned she'd gone missing. He wondered if it would have changed anything sooner, or for the better, in any way. Maybe worse.

He discarded the line of reasoning.

"Let's go."

* * *

They took the usual route to Urahara's shop, thinking it best to travel the standard if Orihime was accompanied by a shinigami. Renji advised her to take alternate paths home from any place she frequented routinely, and she promised to. Part of his advice was because of his upcoming departure back to Soul Society which he hoped would take no more than a week's time.

He didn't want to leave her for that length of time for more reasons that one. He was confident in Kurosaki's Soul Reaper abilities, but there was no guarantee where Grimmjow was concerned. The former Espada now flew below the spiritual radar for most senses, and Renji knew Orihime wasn't the type to be a bother to anyone.

She walked at his side as they passed down the town's sunny streets, many of the other pedestrians on the sidewalk throwing them odd glances and some even outright snickering at them.

Or him, Renji knew. He'd been in the Living World often enough to know the sounds of ridicule. He also knew most of it disappeared as soon as he looked at the ridiculer.

They'd just passed to the last four blocks to Urahara's shop when both Renji and Orihime felt it. She stopped in her tracks, her hand clutching at his arm as she turned to look to a side street where a spiritual fluctuation was ebbing stronger.

"It's Rukia," Renji said, eyes following her gaze before looking back to her. "Is it Grimmjow, too?"

She shook her head, and then followed as he took off down the side street.

They dodged the other people on the sidewalk, hastening on into the back alley of the next block where Rukia's form was crumpled against a wall, still in her green dress, unmoving. A metallic sounding screech belched out from farther ahead and Renji looked that way to see Ichigo brandishing his sword against three enormous Hollows.

"Stay back!" Renji yelled to Orihime, throwing off his gigai and drawing his own sword to aid Ichigo.

Orihime backtracked a few steps, eyes wide on the three Hollows, all a variation of mutant sloth appearances, their white faces shaped bovine-like with quills covering their heads. They collectively turned their attention on Renji as he darted to one side near Ichigo.

"Come on, you ugly bastard!" he urged, sword tipping in beckon.

All three Hollows screeched in unison at him, tongues licking out at the trebling sound.

"They're joined," Ichigo told him, leaping to one side, all three heads turning in his direction at the movement. "They can shoot the quills."

As if to demonstrate, the nearest head unleashed a section of quills at Renji, who used his sword to block the sharp, foot-long salvo.

With a yell, Ichigo launched in, followed by Renji from the opposite side.

Orihime dragged her eyes from the screeching monsters to where Rukia lay. She hurried there and knelt, feeling the back of her neck below the black hair that fell across the smaller girl, hiding her face.

"Rukia," she said lowly, fearing the damage, frowning at the green dress. She carefully pulled Rukia over, horror welling in her face at the red staining the girl's abdomen. "Oh, Rukia, you'll be okay."

Orihime shrugged out of her sweater and bunched it up to hold against the injured girl's stomach, pressing firmly to stop the bleeding. Rukia made no sound, her face unusually pale. Orihime glanced back to where the Hollows made a shearing sound.

The largest went down into a heavy thud at Ichigo's feet, followed by the next against a wall under Renji's sword. She looked back to Rukia, hoping for a sound, but there was no sign of life from the girl. She scooped Rukia up closer, holding her as tightly as possible and lifted her barely from the ground as she rose to her feet and sunk into the shadows, her hands shaking when she felt no life in Rukia's body.

She looked down at the pale face that was pale and bloodless. Orihime shivered, the alley's cold on her shoulders despite the tank top. She rubbed her hand along Rukia's back, pulling her form closer, making the sweater tight against her abdominal wound, red soaking the lavender-purple material. "Hang on, Rukia. We'll get you healed up quick."

A triumphant shout came from both Ichigo and Renji, and Orihime looked behind her to see the last Hollow slump to the street, crushing one of the others. Ichigo dropped to the ground from where he hovered above it, eyes going immediately to Rukia in Orihime's arms.

He was instantly at her side, gently taking the unconscious girl from her as Renji joined them.

"What the hell happened here?" he demanded of Ichigo as the substitute's eyes went to the bloodied sweater against Rukia's dress.

Ichigo pulled her closer, a grim expression claiming his face, Renji's question evicted from his mind without hearing it. "We'll go to Urahara's."

"No, my place," Renji said as he sheathed his sword, eyes following Rukia's blanched face as Ichigo held her closer.

Ichigo nodded without argument, looking to Orihime. "You're coming?"

She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as a sudden chill caught her back through her tank top. Renji's eyes went from the faint bloodstains that had seeped onto her knit shirt to her face as she frowned, her gaze turning to the tops of the residential buildings around them.

"Are you cold?" he asked, eyes sharp on her.

She nodded, arms tightening at her chest.

"Go on with them," he told her as he knelt to the fallen gigai and stuck a hand in the front jean pocket. He pulled out a key ring with two keys and stood. He handed her the keys, noticing her fingers were cold. His hand gripped hers briefly as Ichigo spoke mutedly to Rukia behind him. "Go back and let you all in and I'll be there soon."

She nodded. "Be careful, Renji."

He watched them leave out of the side street before leaping to the tallest of the buildings around them, a five story apartment complex that opened to a small courtyard behind. From his vantage point Renji had a view of the surrounding streets and buildings, his eyes moving shrewdly over the rooftops of varying heights, inspecting every corner and inlet. For a long moment there were no untoward movements, the late afternoon sun playing tricks with the thinly leafed trees and shadows in a few yards, but no Grimmjow.

He alighted to another building, seeing Ichigo with Rukia and Orihime making their way hastily to the other end of the next block through the alleys. From the corner of his eye he saw another movement, this one white, easily recognizing the former Espada farther into the heart of town.

With a few expert springs, Renji place himself on the rooftop of a tall building between Grimmjow and the next section of buildings, keeping the highly placed Arrancar half a dozen blocks from Kurosaki's destination. He drew his sword as Grimmjow stopped on the rooftop, hand at one side of his loose white shirt over his pants.

Renji's hand gripped Zabimaru's leather wrapped handle, taking a few steps towards the tall Espada, anger suddenly welling in him. "What do you want with her?"

Grimmjow laughed, eyes cutting cruel, a hand easing toward the katana's hilt. "Nice catch, shinigami."

Renji closed the distance between them by a few feet, circling left. "What do you want?"

Grimmjow sneered, looking back the way he'd last sensed Orihime's presence before glancing back to Renji. "It's just a matter of time. She'll come around to me."

Renji resisted calling out Zabimaru's commands, waiting for Grimmjow to make the next move, anxious to discover the Espada's levels. "Following school girls, that's what you've sunk to, Negative Six? Low, even for a former Espada."

Grimmjow snarled, hand clutching his sword hilt now but not drawing it, eyes turning feral. "There's nothing _former_ about it, and it's not Six anymore, shinigami!"

"No? Must make you the last one left," Renji taunted, continuing his circle around the man, watching him turn. "Not much of an army." He shook out his sword to one side, itching to call out the command to _Howl_. "You're not taking her back."

Grimmjow stopped turning, head cocked to one side. "I don't have to take her back, shinigami." He suddenly looked farther into town where the late day was settling, eyes narrowing as he cursed at something unseen.

Renji shifted a glance in that direction only for a moment. Grimmjow looked back to him, hand easing from his sword hilt.

"Next time she'll promise," he told Renji with a chuckle. "Heads up, shinigami." He turned and leaped from the building, disappearing over the edge of it as Renji followed.

By the second Renji got there Grimmjow was nowhere to be seen, the side street below devoid of any sign of him, the only traffic a few pedestrians and bicycles. He frowned and leapt to the next building, searching the surrounding alleys and streets. He spent only a few more moments searching before heading back to his own apartment, ever on guard against being followed.

At his apartment moments later, Renji found Ichigo standing against the bathroom doorframe, arms crossed in consternation, looking into his bedroom where Rukia was lying on the bed with Orihime near her, the healing bubble surrounding her as Orihime's lips moved in silent Souten Kisshun, her focus on the girl on the bed as they looked on. They watched for a few moments as Mrs. Tanaka's enka music from below lent an surreal feeling to the room, both hoping with Orihime for a speedy recovery, before either spoke.

"She never had a chance to change out of her gigai, if that's what you're wondering, Renji," Ichigo said, his voice without its customary grouch. "They just came up out of nowhere."

"Those new gigais are damn hard to get out of," Renji said, eyes on Orihime for a moment before going back to Rukia. "Did you sense Grimmjow?"

Ichigo's jaw tightened at the name. "Not at all. This is the best time to take him out, Renji, before he gets stronger."

Renji nodded, attention going to the window as a light from Urahara's shop blinked on in the backyard of the growing dusk. "Rukia will have to report back to Soul Society after this. I'm going with her to get some answers. You'll watch out after these Twelfth Division probationaries?"

Ichigo snorted in scoff. "They're dropping like flies."

"Someone wants it that way."

Ichigo stood straighter as Rukia stirred, uncrossing his arms. "Yeah, I'll keep an eye out. How long will you be gone?"

"Few days, maybe less."

They watched the bubble dissipate and Orihime step back from the bed as Rukia fully recovered, her eyes fluttering open, a hand going to her dress where the blood was now dried brown and slowly fading away.

Renji turned his back as Rukia sat up slowly and Ichigo went to her side, his hand pausing on Orihime's elbow momentarily as he murmured his gratitude. Renji opened the middle drawer of the small dresser and found a black t-shirt with a bland logo about a brand of sports shoes on the graphic front and turned to see Orihime leaning against the wall nearby, looking drained, arms crossed over her stomach.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a low tone, casting a look to where Ichigo had sat at the edge of the bed beside Rukia.

Orihime nodded, eyes going to him, trying to brighten. "Did you see him?"

"Yup." He handed her the shirt as he glanced at her tank top. "You can change in the bathroom."

She looked down to see the faint stains and took the shirt from him. "Thanks. Oh, I still have to go to Urahara-san's."

"Forget him tonight."

He followed her the few feet to the bathroom doorway, switching on the overhead ceiling light in the falling evening dimness that seeped into the small apartment. "I'll straighten it out later with him."

"Thanks, Renji." She went into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind her.

He stood beside the door, watching Ichigo take Rukia's hand at the bedside, the orange-haired guy's body blocking Renji's view of the recently healed girl on the bed. He steeled against the irony of the situation that threatened to poison his newfound contentment, preferring to think of the afternoon at Orihime's apartment rather than the scene before him.

The door opened beside him and she looked at him and he ushered her into the small kitchen before she had a chance to take in the low murmuring in the bedroom. He put a hand to her back, feeling the slight coolness there, stifling the urge to take her tightly in his arms, instead giving in to draping one arm around her shoulders.

"Thanks for letting me use the shirt," she said, eyes fighting the urge to look back to his bedroom. She took a deep breath, filling the t-shirt out a little more.

He held her at arm's length for a moment, grinning at what her figure did to the black jersey material. "I like it on you."

She smiled wider, blushing a little as she pushed her hair behind her ear with one hand, leaning closer to his shoulder.

"Thanks for taking care of Rukia," he said, making her face him.

"I'm so out of practice," she said, biting her lower lip. "I don't think I'm helping Urahara-san much."

He shook his head, settling her hair over her shoulder, his hand pausing on the side of her neck, thumb rubbing just under her ear, again the softness of the tresses making him grin. "Don't worry about him. He's just nosey."

She put a hand to her front pants pocket and found his set of keys. "Before I forget."

He took the ring she handed him and separated one from the metal circle, handing her the free key.

"Keep it," he said, and then continued as she began to protest. "That way you've got somewhere to go if you think Grimmjow's around and you don't want to go home." He chuckled at her instant blush. "Or any other time, Orihime."

She giggled a little, lowering her head to look at the key as her hair brushed his chest. He put a hand to the irresistible softness beneath his chin, fingers light on her hair as she looked back to him.

"Let's get you home."

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed._


	13. Quid Pro Quo

Renji and Rukia had planned to return back to Soul Society the next day, but both found reasons to stay on a while longer among the Living, Rukia for reasons Renji didn't have to guess at, and he for reasons he never made clear.

_Not that she'd asked_, he reminded himself as he made his way back from overseeing Orihime to the high school across town that morning. He hadn't spoken with her, but she'd given him a brief wave, which drew odd looks from her classmates who couldn't see him, before he set off back to Urahara's shop.

No, Rukia hadn't said as much, but Renji was finding his longtime friend more perceptive of situations than he'd previously given her credit. She'd made her own excuses for wanting to stay on -- until school let out for the afternoon, at least -- and he didn't press her into an earlier return to their respective Divisions.

He gave the excuse of having to clear a couple days' absence to Mrs. Tanaka. After all, his landlady deserved something of a notice, and he did have to cajole Jinta into taking the garbage out for a few days for the older woman. It cost Renji the worth of four ice cream sundaes, two of which were promised to Ururu.

Renji pushed through the back door of Urahara's shop that midmorning, the warm sun on his back as muted voices from Tessai and a customer came from deeper within the shop. He'd already seen a few stray cats in the alley, and it made him wonder about the shopkeeper's recent activities.

"Ah, there you are," Urahara said from the open doorway of his makeshift office as Renji passed down the shop's back hall.

Renji stopped and looked into the room where Urahara was hunched over the desk crowded with papers and books. "You wanted to see me?"

"I'd rather see Miss Inoue, but since you've been keeping her to yourself, you'll have to do." Urahara stood and pushed back his hat, scratching his head until his hair was bunched into blond clumps. "Heard about that confrontation last night. How's Rukia-chan?"

Renji nodded, stepping into the room, glancing over the odd contents that were stacked on shelves and thrown against one wall. "She's all right now, but we're leaving for Soul Society later today. I think Orihime should leave off testing for a few days."

Urahara resettled his hat over his eyes, sighing. "I told you, I've no ill intentions toward the girl, Renji," he said easily, "but anyone with the history she has -- and the power she has -- needs studying. She's already agreed."

Renji crossed his arms, returning the man's stubborn stare. "Hold off a few days, Kisuke."

He nodded. "There are some that aren't going to be holding off, Renji."

"Grimmjow."

"Not who I was talking about." Urahara focused past Renji as Yoruichi peeked into the room, her eyes sliding to Renji before going to Urahara again.

"One dead cat at your service," she said, then smiled as Renji turned to scowl at her. "Just kidding, Renji." She looked back to Urahara. "I heard the lieutenant's leaving, so we'll put off testing?"

Urahara nodded and the dark-skinned woman disappeared down the hall as Renji spoke.

"Who're you talking about if not Grimmjow?"

Urahara stepped around the desk and met him at the doorway. "Come on down and I'll show you something interesting."

Renji descended into the deep underbelly of the shop where Urahara liked to spend most of his time. It branched out much larger than the floor plan of the shop topside, and the work area was fitted with the usual lab equipment plus a few cadaver tables and his elongated workbench.

Renji didn't like the room, didn't want to know what most of the equipment was or what it did, didn't want to be there very much, either. He followed the shopkeeper to the worktable where a series of tubular lights shone on a set of vials and flasks in a stand of racks, each with layers of colored gaseous liquids inside, some of the levels deeper and more vibrant than others.

"Since we've already discussed the variances of combinations of signatures within the same corpse," Urahara said, tapping the granite table surface near the first set of vials, "we'll cut straight to what that means to you."

Renji looked up from the row of tubes, frowning. "Me?"

"I'm not the only one who's going to notice it, Renji," he said, sighing, "but I don't think Mayuri will bring it to anyone's attention so long as he can study it at leisure, but the time will come when he _will_ file a report."

Renji fingered one of the vials with a peach color inside, not liking what he was hearing. "What the hell's that mean?"

Urahara turned to a metal case at one end of the table and lifted its lid. Inside was another rack of vials, these smaller in size, with much less color in each of them. He pulled the set of vials closer with motherly care. "The differences in reiryoku among the Living, shinigamis, Hollows, Arrancar, and Vizards fall within ranges, some possessing more of one sort than another, such as in Vizards and Arrancar. Living, shinigamis, and Hollows are the purest of strains, with the exception of possibly Quinceys, but I don't know that for certain. Yet," he added with a chuckle, and then continued when Renji didn't laugh.

"Vizards and Arrancar are pretty much a combination, but once established they become their own signature." He carefully picked out a tube with a chartreuse fluid inside. "This is a sample taken from Mashiro Kuna -- taken with her permission, Abarai, and Kensei's permission, too," he added with a sigh, "which is Vizard. I don't have my original samples anymore, didn't get everything in my hasty departure from Soul Society -- being banished and on the run and all -- but Mashiro's composition changed from her early hollowfication until she had mastered her Hollow to become a full Vizard. Until then, Renji, her shinigami and Hollow signatures were separate, and stayed that way. No amount of shaking or tumbling could mix them, but once she went Vizard," he said, holding up the vial, "there was no separating them. One."

"So?" Renji frowned at him.

Urahara was disappointed Renji couldn't appreciate his work. "So? Well, some of that was just bragging, okay, but it helps to prove what that is." He nodded to the vial Renji had fingered. "The peach color is Miss Inoue's reiryoku."

Renji looked to the liquid, and then to the other vials in the stand. Several of them had layers of color, four of them containing a band of peach gaseous liquid. "You've been mixing them."

"No."

Renji's eyes narrowed on the nearest vial of multicolored contents. "We've been through this before, Urahara. There's been a mistake."

"No mistake." He moved the rack safely away as Renji's hand balled into a fist. "You can't argue with the science of it, lieutenant. She was there."

"You're delusional. You made some mistake when you ... typed it or whatever you do to determine the signatures," Renji said heatedly. "You've screwed up and got Living and Arrancar and Orihime's signatures crossed. Admit it."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're a scientist, Urahara. You guys like to invent and discover shit."

Urahara frowned. "But we don't just make it up to amuse ourselves, Renji."

He glared at the vial of seemingly innocent peach color, watching the slight swirls pass through it slowly, mind running away with what repercussions it would bring if the shopkeeper was right. "What else can it be?" he finally asked, unsure he wanted the answer.

"Actually, there is another possibility," Urahara said gravely, "but I don't think you'd like that one either, Renji."

There was no trace of humor in the man's tone, something lacking that was usually there in some capacity. Renji looked to him. "What is it?"

"The only other possibility is that Miss Inoue holds both Arrancar and Living reiryoku," he said, taking a step back as Renji glowered at him. "Latent Arrancar tendencies is only a theory, and the closest specimen I've found is Ichigo Kurosaki. You remember how the Gotei Thirteen reacted when the boy's Hollow was still untested."

"I remember."

No one who had witnessed Kurosaki's demonstration of controlling his inner Hollow was likely to forget it. That day on a training lot in the back of Eleventh Division Kurosaki had given the decisive manifestation that had even Zaraki at a momentary loss for words as well as an ebb in respect for the boy. It had also made him want to challenge the substitute shinigami to another row. The whole of Second Division and the Kido Corps had stood by as Kurosaki had demonstrated his Hollow's resurfacing and his ability to control it under a variety of circumstances -- after careful tutelage from Urahara and Kensei Muguruma. It had been a necessity; the alternative was confinement until Soul Society could determine what to do with the new hybrid in Ichigo Kurosaki.

"You're not sticking her in a pit somewhere until she breaks, Urahara," Renji said through gritted teeth, stepping toward the shopkeeper. "She's not some hybrid or anything else; just a girl. A Living girl with high spiritual powers. That's it."

"She was at Las Noches long enough to be modified," Urahara said slowly, tensing as Renji's hand moved on the table, fist nearing the rack of vials. "Kyouka Suigetsu is a powerful zanpakuto that's been studied very little and never duplicated since Aizen," he said, his hand inching his precious rack of research on the table away from Renji. "No one could resist being under its hypnotic spell, even when they knew they were being hypnotized." He cleared his throat. "That's part of what saved Ichimaru from a certain death sentence. Even Aizen wasn't immune to its power. He had to wear the special glasses, according to Ichimaru." He brightened. "Which reminds me..."

Renji watched the shopkeeper go to one of the drawers in a tall chest against a wall near one of the slabs where a form was covered with a sheet. He looked at the covered form and then back to Urahara, nodding at the table. "Who do you have there?"

Urahara gave him a weak smile. "You probably won't like the answer."

"Who?"

Urahara shrugged, pulling out a waist high drawer from the chest and rifling through the small cases inside. "From Twelfth, came in this morning. Drained of reiryoku until dead." He opened one of the cases and nodded at its contents. "I've already isolated the signature, Renji. She was there, too. Living Miss Inoue, shinigami, and Arrancar. Female Arrancar."

"Doesn't mean shit," Renji said, determined to maintain Orihime's innocence.

"I've done further tests, Renji," Urahara said, removing the small case and closing the drawer, turning to him. "The Living and Arrancar reiryoku haven't bonded yet. Early stages, I'd say. Odd, too, because the colors fluctuate from yellow to pink. Not a precedent, but uncommon."

"No," Renji said, shaking his head, eyes on the case. "It doesn't prove anything, Urahara."

"Not yet, but it may not have to prove as much as raise suspicions, Renji." He opened the case to reveal a semi circle of glass, a broken lens from a pair of eye glasses. "Compliments of Ichimaru." He tapped his hat, grinning. "Gotta say, Renji, hats off to anyone who can break free from the influence of Aizen's zanpakuto after being under its spell for so long, since his late academy days. Lots of determination there."

Renji nodded at Ichimaru's accomplishment, to date the only person ever able to achieve such a feat. "Part of what saved his ass from elimination."

Urahara held up the case for him to see better. "He thoughtfully provided a sample of one of the lenses from Aizen's broken glasses."

Renji frowned, regard for the shopkeeper inching up a notch. "How the hell did you get your hands on that?"

"When he was taken into custody, Ichimaru had a few items of interest, and this was one. Well, the entire lens was one, and Captain Kurotsuchi was kind enough to share a portion with me." He closed the case, grinning mischievously. "You have to ask yourself, Renji, why wouldn't Aizen hypnotize her? Why wouldn't he adjust her, scientifically speaking? A compliant subject is the most loyal. We don't have much in the way of Szayel's research, and Miss Inoue wouldn't even know if she'd been under the spell of Kyouka Suigetsu. Or if she still is."

Renji glared down at the man, knowing the potency of his conjectures as well as the impact they'd have on the Gotei 13 and Orihime. "She wouldn't do anything like this," he said, looking to the sheet covered form on the slab. "You know her. She's incapable of anything like that. She _heals_ people, damn it, Urahara."

He nodded. "I know. I've seen it, but her reiatsu is there, and so is female Arrancar, Renji. You can't argue with _that_, either. It pleases me none to say it, but she was there. I'm not saying she did it, but she was there, either as a mere girl or as an Arrancar in transition. Sooner or later I'm not going to be the only one drawing those conclusions."

Renji shook his head, irritation rising to choose only one set of curses to unload on the shopkeeper.

"Why not? Because she's a pretty girl? A young girl? Innocent looking?" Urahara chuckled, replacing the case in the drawer. "Don't let that sweet smile and figure deceive you, lieutenant, she's very capable of being modified. You should be shinigami enough to know that."

"You pervert..."

"I'm just stating the obvious, Renji. You're not blind, you've noticed her charm points, shall we say," Urahara said before his tone shifted sterner. "No one can vouch for what did or did not happen to her in Hueco Mundo."

Renji's caustic stare went from Urahara to the sheet-covered corpse and back again. "When was this one brought in? When was he killed?"

"Yes, it's a he," Urahara said, making his way back to the table of vials. He gently replaced the vials marked with names from the Vizards back into their stand. "Early this morning. Killed last night sometime."

"Orihime never left her apartment. I can vouch that she was there," Renji said, tempted to swipe every vial onto the floor, if only to shut up the shopkeeper's talk of duplicity.

This piqued Urahara's interest. "Oh? You know this for a fact?"

Renji's jaw tightened. "I know for a fact she never left her apartment before four-thirty this morning."

"Do you now?"

"I watched the streets from her building's rooftop until four-thirty-five, then I went home, Urahara." He looked to the tube of peach swirls. "She couldn't kill anyone, not unless it was in self-defense."

Urahara thought twice about his next words before saying them. "You think Ichigo Kurosaki was aware of stabbing Uryu Ishida when his Hollow got the best of him in Hueco Mundo, Renji?"

His eyes sharpened on the shopkeeper, weighing the matter carefully. "That's why you're so interested in testing her?"

Urahara shook his head, sighing. "I'm genuinely interested in her healing abilities, but her reiatsu keeps showing up in all the wrong places." He finished packing the case of vials and latched the lock on the top. "I'll make you a deal, Renji. You bring her around when I need to test her healing abilities, and _you_ test out that gigai for the long haul, and in return I'll keep you up to speed on anything pertaining to her," he said, nodding at the vial of peach color. "You'll know as much as Soul Society can. Maybe even sooner, but I kinda doubt that, not with Mayuri's abilities and equipment."

Renji didn't have to think about it, but it wasn't a decision he could give a definite answer to. "I'll let you know when I get back from Soul Society. I've got to clear the next set of tests."

Urahara nodded, the crooked smile back on his face. "Fair enough."

Renji studied him, wanting to hit him as much as trust him, knowing the man was probably the authority on soul modifications, perhaps even more knowledgeable than Captain Kurotsuchi. "No testing her while I'm gone."

"Ah, you take the fun out of it, Renji," Urahara said with a chuckle.

"I'm serious," Renji growled.

Urahara nodded quickly. "Oh, I know. Deal."

Renji nodded. "Deal."

* * *

The smell of fresh baked bread had filled Orihime's apartment for the last several hours that afternoon, long enough to make the rooms too warm for the September day, and to make Orihime shed her socks in pursuit of comfort. She answered the door just as he knocked late that day, opening it to see a grin on his face, but something more serious in his eyes.

The somberness disappeared as he glanced over her attire, eyes traveling up her cream colored Capris to her tangerine knit top. "You look like summer's back, Orihime."

She giggled and waved him in quickly, closing the door behind him. "Obaachan's baking bread today and it's so hot in here."

"Yeah? Maybe it's just you. Ever think of that?"

She flushed pink as he kissed her cheek, his hand at her waist until she flinched, but not away. She turned to kiss him back, an off target endearment that caught his chin.

"Oops," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him more properly on the cheek.

He twisted the locks on the door and ushered her into the kitchen where smells of chicken were mingling with the bread. "I brought your stove burners." He set two coiled elements on the counter, looking to the round loaf of apricot bread dusted with powdered sugar on a plate nearby. "Did you make that?"

"No. Obaachan from downstairs. She tells everyone to call her that, Renji, not just me. She wants me to water her houseplants for the weekend while she visits her new granddaughter in Tokyo." She stirred the large saucepan with the strips of chicken and teriyaki sauce simmering inside, smiling in surprise as he stood closer behind her, arms encircling her waist loosely, making her squirm a little. "You're in a good mood, Renji. Because you're going back to Soul Society tonight?"

"No, because you're making my favorite chicken." His arms tightened slightly, making her smile more as she was pulled to his chest, still stirring the pot. "And because you smell especially nice today."

She put a hand over his larger one at her waist, liking the strong grip below her ribs. "That's the teriyaki sauce."

"I don't think so."

She smiled as he kissed the back of her neck through her hair and released her to take one of the loose burners.

"Tessai said these things are plug and play, so we'll see."

She nodded and shut the element off beneath the saucepan. "This is done, but the burner is still hot." She moved the pan to the counter onto a rattan pot holder and turned back to him as he lifted the stove top.

It took only moments to replace the burners, and a few more moments to heat the elements until red. After the new burner smell wore off and the temperature was to Renji's satisfaction, Orihime finished preparing dinner and they settled at the small table in her living room in the light of the floor lamp and television, the music from the next apartment on mute for the evening.

Talk wavered between school and matters at Urahara's shop over dinner, and Orihime found that she was more relieved than she expected that she would not to be called to the shopkeeper's presence while Renji was absent. She felt a little guilty for not keeping current with her healing practices, and it had taken her longer than she thought necessary to undue Rukia's injuries the night before.

"I promise to practice more," she said, curling her feet to her side as she sat beside Renji after the impromptu dinner of teriyaki chicken over soba and twigs of asparagus.

She'd resisted her usual additives for the dishes, instead leaving them in separate condiment trays on the table so that they could choose for themselves their own toppings among the shredded cheese, wakame, sesame seeds, and chopped dates.

She sighed, hating where the conversation had come to at the end of the meal. She spent her days trying not to think about Grimmjow, but it was becoming an expected evil she knew she couldn't avoid forever. "How long will you be gone?"

"A few days. Hopefully just two or three," he said, watching her lean closer to table edge as she served them each a slice of the dessert bread, her eyes growing troubled. He pushed the hair from her face, bringing a smile to her lips. "Not long, Orihime. You'll be okay."

She nodded, glancing to the television set that was changing to a cooking show she usually watched. She'd already cleared the dinner dishes, and the simple dessert bread seemed perfect after the spicier meal. "I know. I just like it better when you're here."

He grinned at the slight flush hinting at her cheeks when she said it. He took a bite of the bread, nodding when she looked to him expectantly. "The bread's good."

She swallowed the bite in her mouth, nodding. "Obaachan's a really old lady, but she bakes the best _everything_ in the building."

He finished the bread and leaned against the futon behind them. "Will Tatsuki be around this weekend? Do you two have anything planned?"

She ate the last bit of her bread and nodded, one cheek bulging before she swallowed the bite. "She's got a closed spar Sunday, but after that I'm going to her house for dinner." She looked to the television program as the host and hostess explained the intricacies of the spotlight dish. She sat back and drew her knees up to her chest behind the table, the fingers of one hand pulling her Capris hems over her knees. "Her mother is making Chinese pot stickers, Tatsuki's favorite."

"Sounds good."

"I'll see if she'll give me the recipe, and I'll make them for you."

He smiled, slipping his hand over her farthest knee, fingers toying with the drawstrings that hung from the outside hem as her head rested against his shoulder, her eyes on the television show as it went to a chewing gum commercial. "You don't have to invite me to dinner all the time, Orihime."

"I like it." She watched the commercial, her elbow dropping against his chest as she got comfortable beside him. "You're not afraid of my cooking. I think some people are."

"Your cooking isn't a problem."

She turned her face to look at him, eyes searching his, smiling at the faint scent of musk hanging on him. "You've got a strong stomach, Renji."

"You think that's it?"

She smiled more, nodding. "Or no taste buds." She looked down as his fingers lifted the drawstring.

"Do these do something or are they just fashionable?"

"Mostly fashionable."

He tugged at the hanging strings but didn't untie them before moving his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer with the movement. "My taste buds work," he said, kissing her lips lightly.

She turned to her left to face him better, feeling his other hand slide farther down her thigh, fingers pressing into the light cotton material as his arm around her anchored her closer. She nestled in the crook of his shoulder, his lips warm on hers, more forceful in their kissing as her arm slipped around his back, feeling the muscles there taut beneath the t-shirt.

For a long moment she was content with his nearness until he pulled her against him tighter, his chest to hers, her right foot edging to his jean pant leg, her knee against his, fingers digging into his back. She pulled her face a few inches from his, hearing her heartbeat loudly as she looked to each of his solemn eyes.

She swallowed forcefully, feeling as if he would comment on her racing heartbeat against his chest. Her eyes dropped to his lips and then rose to his again, surprising herself a little at her own suggestion. "Do you have to go back tonight, Renji?"

She wasn't sure what passed over his face in the dim light from the lamp, a flicker of doubt or perhaps perplexity at her words, feeling his fingers grip her shoulder tighter.

He felt her toes turn against his shin, her knee pressed to his, her fingers softening on his back as she watched his face. "I should go back tonight, Orihime."

She sighed, moving in to kiss the corner of his mouth, making him return the gesture before she spoke again. "Okay."

He moved his hand from her leg and drew a finger across her cheek, seeing her eyes go to the movement. "You'll be okay here. Stay alert, and I'll be back soon."

She nodded slightly and buried her face in his shoulder, her hair soft against his chin as his arms wrapped tighter around her.

"That's not what I meant, Renji," she said near his ear, her voice barely above a whisper, exhaling deeply, bringing with the movement a stronger scent of honeysuckle.

They remained close for several long moments, Renji easing one hand from her back to stroke the auburn tresses running along her shoulder, crowding his face as her fingers made small circles on his back. A change in programming on the television broke their thoughts as a variety show came on.

She moved slightly to look at him, still engulfed in his arms as her eyes went over the black jagged marks at his neck, smiling a little as she slipped her arm up to wrap around his shoulder, sighing against him as she looked to his face. "You promise to come back soon?"

"I promise," he told her quietly, fingers embedded in her hair, pulling through it slowly.

She nodded, sagging against him. "You'll hurry?"

Renji wanted to promise more, but instead nodded. "Quick as I can, Orihime."

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone for reviewing._


	14. Unlikely Savior

Soul Society was much the same as Renji had left it a month ago. In that time he'd assisted Shuuhei Hisagi in a field training exercise in the Living World including both Sixth and Ninth Division probationaries, and then, after a brief visit to Sixth Division, Renji had returned to Urahara's shop for intermittent gigai testing.

He spent the first day back at Division setting his small office in order. There wasn't much to do, actually, but he discovered that Byakuya Kuchiki had been absent much of the time as well, the captain's time centering around his noble family's business, leaving most of the mundane duties to the third seat officer.

It didn't bother Renji too much that the third seat was handling the more boring aspects of the Division. There was only nominal work, mostly paper shuffling which could be shuffled by any seated officer.

Since the War had ended there'd been a scramble to restore order among the ranks. Some divisions had more chaos than others, and Eleventh was still the shamble that it always was under a Zaraki command, but that was to be expected.

After Kurosaki's demonstration that earned him his freedom in the Living World, a hush of normalcy had fallen over Soul Society, a much needed relief after the upheaval of traitorous captains and war. Everyone had been ready for the bland routine of paperwork.

Of course, paperwork was still paperwork, Renji knew as he lugged a stack from Sixth Division headquarters to Gotei Central that afternoon, an hour trip by foot in the warm sun in the cloudless sky above. Third seat hadn't delivered any of the pertinent paperwork in their Captain's absence to the Kuchiki estate.

"Hey, thought you gave up on us," Shuuhei said, clapping a hand on Renji's shoulder as he caught up with him on the street.

Renji shuffled the load of paperwork to his other arm. "Damn third seat hasn't turned in anything in two weeks."

"Yeah, tell me about third seats," Shuuhei grumbled as they moved down the street. "All rank and no show. Mine is always gone or late or stupid."

Renji had a dozen questions to run past the fellow lieutenant, but he chose only a few. "What's new around here? Anything?"

"Nope."

"Nothing?"

Shuuhei shook his head, both of them nodding a greeting to a group of academy trainees who made a brief collective bow as they passed by under the instructor's lead. He looked to the stack of paperwork Renji carried. "Good example of a vice-captain, Abarai. They too can aspire to be just like you. Paperwork mule."

"Shut up," Renji grumbled. "They'll have their own share of paperwork to haul around."

They turned down the next corner where the sun beat hotter along the dusty street. Renji cleared his throat, still wanting answers without asking questions. He particularly wanted to know if Orihime's name had come up at any of the captains meetings. There was no reason it should have, he told himself. And if it hadn't, he didn't want to put the idea in Shuuhei's head.

"Lots of Hollows among the Living lately."

Shuuhei nodded. "Yeah, I hear Grimmjow was seen. Any truth to that?"

"I saw him."

Shuuhei looked sharply to him. "Yeah? I heard he's no more than Hollow-strength, and a low-power one at that."

"That's the impression I get."

"Well, that must be why it's of no importance. From what I hear, he's to be treated as any other Hollow. Class B."

"Doesn't strike you as odd?"

Shuuhei debated answering, his limited knowledge of privy captains' meetings information more confusing than helpful at times. "There's talk it's not even him, Renji. Just some knock-off that Apollo left behind."

Renji decided it was as good an opening as he was going to get. "That's why Captain Kurotsuchi's so interested in collecting specimens?"

Shuuhei shrugged as they took up the last stretch to Gotei Central. "When isn't he taking specimens of some shit or another?"

Renji nodded. "Guess you're right. I suppose he could be some clone-thing. Szayel Apollo was one screwed up Espada."

Shuuhei nodded, glancing at the pile of paperwork. "Are you heading back soon or got time for a drink?"

"I'm waiting on Captain Kuchiki's answer on some forms I sent over, but I've got time. He's doing family business."

"Yeah, lots of extracurricular type events going around now." There was a tinge of bitterness to Shuuhei's tone. "As long as Aizen is at large there's no real rest; just this limbo. Waiting for something. Like we're trying to get everything out of the way before he pulls something again. I won't be happy until that guy's sealed up or buried."

Renji nodded in wholehearted agreement.

* * *

There was no answer to be had for two more days, and even then it wasn't as conclusive as Renji wanted. As the hours passed and the days wore on he found his thoughts leading back to Orihime, wondering if she was safe, if she'd encountered Grimmjow again.

If Urahara was keeping his promise.

And he was finding that he missed her.

He took the halls leading to the back of Sixth Division's headquarters the evening of third day, winding his way to the off-limits section reserved for his Captain that served as more home away from home than true Division capacity. He knew Kurosaki was an adept fighter and harbored a protective nature toward Orihime, but he was also a substitute shinigami, and therefore not expected to be on watch as such.

Kurosaki would, he knew. He knew the strawberry would be on watch for Orihime's welfare, but Renji wouldn't breathe easy until he was back on Living soil. Everyone had their slack moments, and he didn't want to think of her safety left up to the inexperienced probationaries from Twelfth Division.

Nor did he want Kurosaki thinking about her too much. After overlooking the sweet girl's affections for as long as Renji had known them, he didn't want the strawberry to suddenly become aware of her. Not now.

"Damn it, not now," he muttered to himself, his reasoning not entirely for Rukia's benefit.

Byakuya Kuchiki didn't utilize a captain's residency on the Division grounds as most Gotei 13 members did, opting instead for his suite of simple rooms paneled in bamboo and teak, the halls of which even had the hush of nobility to them that made Renji feel his position more acutely. He'd gotten used to the feeling of inequality, and he always felt much less than par until he reached the suite's porch that overlooked a large lawn at the rear entrance. At least on the wooden porch running the length of the building there wasn't the constant reminders of Kuchiki family insignia emblazoned over every doorway.

Renji found Byakuya there now, sitting at the small low writing table, calligraphy pen in hand, his usual precise penmanship on the rice paper always bringing to Renji's mind Momo Hinamori's comments on her former captain's gift for the pastime.

It pained him still to recall her fascination of Sousuke Aizen, her idolization of the man who'd brought Soul Society to its knees, leaving destruction, broken souls, and one heart in his wake.

He knew she'd been fond of the man, served him well in her capacity as lieutenant, and was relieved when she'd finally come to her senses with the truth about her ex-commander.

Renji bowed to Byakuya's seated form, and then dropped to his knees, eyes on the wooden platform of porch before him, breathing easier in the openness of the outdoors.

"Captain."

Byakuya glanced to him before dipping and blotting his pen. "Up, Renji. We're not in office."

Renji sat back on his legs beneath him, hands on his knees, suspicious of his Captain's leniency. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

Byakuya nodded slightly, eyes on the paper before him in the flickering light of a candle lamp, minus his captain's coat in the cool of the evening. "This matter with Rukia and Urahara-san's faulty gigai," he said, frowning at his work, hand pausing at the end of a stroke of the brush, "I want no more of it. If she's permitted to return to the Living World, I want you to make sure she's outfitted with the older model gigai. I want no delays in her performance as a shinigami, or any other hindrance of such for my sister. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Captain," Renji said, still a little uncertain. "Is she being sent back?'

"Not to my knowledge." He set the paper to one side, the ink still wet along the heavier black lines. "Now, this matter with the Sixth Espada several shinigami have reported seeing, what's your opinion?"

Renji narrowed his eyes at the query, unusual for his superior. "Do I think it's genuinely Grimmjow?"

Byakuya nodded, eyes still on the paper.

"Yes."

"How certain are you?"

"I'd say ninety percent. If not him, then some sort of replica."

Byakuya turned to look at him, eyes piercing in the poor light. "I want Rukia nowhere near him, Renji. Soul Society is taking this whole matter far too calmly for my liking. Your request to be assigned to Sector Two of Karakura Town has been denied."

Renji sat straighter at the answer. "Another sector then."

"Captain Kurotsuchi has managed to secure all sectors under the premise of needing field training for his newest recruits and even probationaries. I cannot allow you to be assigned. However," he added, looking back to the nearly dry paper with carefully inked characters, "a few captains have made other arrangements. Back-up, as you and Rukia like to call it. Nothing official, Renji." He glanced back to his lieutenant. "Perhaps your impetuousness will come in handy."

Renji gave him a wary look. It was as close to a compliment as he'd get from his Byakuya Kuchiki over his occasional, seemingly reckless behavior. "Yes, Captain."

"As for your test on Urahara-san's gigai, that I'll allow for one month. Beyond that you'll need to check back."

"Yes, Captain."

"You can leave after you finish that stack of paperwork soon to be on your desk." Byakuya reached for another sheet of paper. "The stack Captain Unohana promised to send over half an hour ago. It should be here shortly."

Renji refused the growl that wanted to surface. Urahara might not have paperwork connected to his gigai testing, but Fourth Division's captain surely did.

"Yes, Captain."

* * *

Renji's departure back to Soul Society was on Orihime's mind over the weekend and into the following week as she returned to school. She'd only left her apartment a few times, the longest duration being for dinner at Tatsuki's house, aside from school. She was intensely aware of any chill in the air, whether real or imagined, and sometimes wondered if she'd really encountered the former Espada Six on the rooftop that day.

Some days she even debated if she'd spent those afternoons and evenings with Renji. It seemed a little too pleasant to be true.

It wasn't that she was doubting her senses. It was her memories that played games with her at times. If Grimmjow was the threat that she thought him to be, she was curious as to why he hadn't garnered more attention from Soul Society.

She hurried down the sidewalk alone, having left Tatsuki at the last intersection where their ways parted, her friend to practice with Master Takazawa, and she in search of the weightier beads she needed from the notions shop a few blocks over.

"Kurosaki-kun knows the threat Grimmjow is," she mumbled aloud, heaving her book bag strap onto her shoulder better, her eyes alert to the rooftops overhead and sidewalk opposite the busy street. She frowned, trying to convince herself. "He knows he's here. Renji knows it."

She smiled at thoughts of Renji, but then it fell to the corners of her mouth. As much as she liked to recall his arms around her in warm embrace and the ease she felt with him, creeping doubts in his absence now pulled at her.

"It could all be kindness," she said for the third time that day, frowning at the thought. "A sympathetic shoulder to a silly girl."

She sighed, looking at the shop fronts as her steps slowed. Her eyes went over the names of each. Yarn supplies. Singapore style noodle shop. Ceramics equipment.

She stopped at the next one, pushing the door open to the shop selling beads, buttons, and other notions.

She nodded and returned a small bow to the shop clerk behind the counter as she wove her way into the store, searching for the aisle in the cramped space that offered beads. It took a few moments among the bins stacked six high of clear compartments of seed, bugle, and teardrop shaped beads to find the size and color of beads she wanted.

Uryu had agreed with her that adding a periodic teardrop bead of aurora borealis purple to every few strands of the beaded fringe would add the accent they wanted for the dress's hem, accentuating the newly added length. He'd offered to go with her to the shop, but she wanted to find the right beads first, and then have him accompany her. If he still wanted to. Many things had changed between Quincy and shinigami after the War. She didn't want to assume anything anymore.

And she didn't want to hope it was just kindness from Renji. She didn't want to think he could kiss her like that out of simple kindness and not mean it. Her cheeks heated as she replayed those moments after dinner the week before, content in his arms, their secure strength that held her with just the right amount of force.

She opened one of the bead compartments and took out two beads, turning them in her fingers to judge the weight, holding them up to watch the purple colors splay across the lobed surfaces. She twisted them in the overhead lighting, nodding with satisfaction at the color.

Renji hadn't seemed to mind her inexperience at kissing. It wasn't that she hadn't been kissed before, she thought as she picked out a few more beads to show Uryu. Of course she'd been kissed before.

Not seriously. Not like Renji had kissed her. But by a few boys from school.

"Okay. Two," she admitted aloud as she chose four beads. "Those weren't even real kisses."

Kisses obtained through a game of spin-the-bottle and stolen on the sly by an opportunist classmate during crafts club didn't count, she decided. It hadn't been a game she wanted to play, and it had been awkward and disappointing. Clumsy movements on both her part and the boy from Chizuru's birthday party last summer, and then from another classmate in what she realized had been an arranged _chance_ meeting in an empty hall on the way back from the crafts club lab closet several months ago. Which had earned him a slap in the face.

Both kisses forgettable.

She took the four teardrop beads to the front of the shop and paid for them, hoping Uryu agreed with her that they would fit with the dress's design. She was back out on the sunny but windy sidewalk as a chill set in over the late afternoon, her guard ever cautious as she moved among the other pedestrians.

Kissing Renji had been awkward at first because she'd found herself both eager and overwhelmed at the same time, but there'd been no hesitation on her part. She wondered why.

Well, not hesitation to kiss him, but a little indecision as to exactly how. "Maybe it's always like that," she mused to no one as she moved down the sidewalk, slipping among the other students and businessmen on their ways home. "I suppose it's different for everyone, with anyone." It was something she wanted to study more in-depth with him.

Unless it _was_ just kindness. After all, Renji was much older than her -- by decades, in fact -- as well as a Gotei 13 _vice_-_captain_, and a shinigami. Sometimes his easy-going nature made his rank in Soul Society slip her mind. He was nothing like some of the other lieutenants or captains she'd met.

It had been three days since he'd left, and she missed him. She hoped he missed her, too.

The wind had picked up, now blowing into her face as she took the next corner, making her pause to put the small bag from the notions shop in her book bag before continuing on her way home. The crowd around her hurried on, also feeling the change in temperature.

It was a few more moments before the cold Orihime felt on her face and legs beneath her skirt became more than the weather, settling in her back, chilling her spine until she had to admit it was much more.

She crossed her arms over her chest, thankful she was wearing her longer sleeved uniform, hazel eyes now cautious on the sidewalk and buildings around her. She studied her surroundings carefully as she hastened on, feet clipping swiftly over the sidewalk. Grimmjow was near, and she knew it.

She ducked into an alley when one branched out to her side, pausing as she looked down it, seeing that it opened into another street and not a dead end. She looked back to the street.

"Ori-hime," a hushed, feminine voice hissed from behind her, drawing out the syllables.

Orihime spun around, still at the entrance to the alley. She saw nothing, just the garbage bins and stacked crates against the brick sides of the buildings. She looked up, eyes following the three story roof lines. There was no one.

"Orihime." Another voice this time, quicker, sharper.

"Let's play a game," the first echoed back in sing-song.

This time the chill in Orihime's back was lined with her hair bristling, a deep-seated memory of similar words trying to surface.

The vague familiarity of the voices drew her on, making her steps into the empty alley deliberate, nearly against her will. She took a deep breath and peeked around the first stack of garbage cans, seeing nothing except for windblown trash.

"What do you want?" she called hesitantly, unsure whether the voices were real or simply imagined. She took a few more steps, looking into the inlet to her left where one of the buildings sunk into a small dead end alley that was used for the majority of crates and broken down cardboard boxes.

Suddenly a rough shove from behind pushed her to her knees. Broken glass and metal debris cut into her knees, but she quickly got to her feet, spinning to see her attacker.

It took a moment to recognize Loly, the abruptly altered school girl uniform deceptive, but the Arrancar mask making memories flood back. The black-haired girl's ponytails were uneven, her usual scowl sharper in the full light of the afternoon.

Orihime saw the girl's fingers edge to the tanto at her skirt waistband. "You ... What do you want?"

Loly tilted her head to one side, eyes narrowing on her, hand closing over the tanto hilt. "I want you dead, Princess!"

Loly launched, the short sword blade swiping empty air as Orihime leaped back, nearly stumbling over debris in the alley. A second form jolted from the other side of the narrow inlet, throwing Loly's arm into the air. Menoly pushed the other Arrancar back, and then turned to face Orihime.

"First you're mine; then she can have you," she said, stepping toward Orihime. "Who's the strongest of the shinigami, Princess?"

Orihime looked between the Arrancars, attempting to breathe slower as she tried to fathom their appearance in the Living World, the cold still gripping her spine in a paralyzing hold.

"Tell me!" Menoly demanded, her arm flying out in a backhand, only to be stopped by an arm reaching over Orihime's shoulder.

Orihime recoiled as she recognized it, her back making icy contact with a taller figure behind her, eyes wide as Grimmjow's hand stopped Menoly's assault before touching her. He lifted Menoly easily by the wrist and threw her to the building's wall, her form crumpling among the garbage cans, her neck twisted at a fatal angle.

Orihime forced herself to move, jerking from the tall Espada, a whimper escaping her as he advanced on Loly, who had lowered the tanto and stood gaping at Grimmjow. In a swift movement his hand was around her throat, sending her to her knees as the bones in her neck cracked.

A gasping sound was all that was heard as the black-haired Arrancar sunk to the ground, coughing and oozing red from her throat until a final spasm made her lay silent.

Grimmjow turned to look at Orihime, but she was already atop the nearest garbage can and climbing for the lowest rung of the fire escape ladder hanging from the second level above her against the building.

"Not so fast," Grimmjow said, wrenching her down by her arm, making her stand before him.

She shook her head, her spine numb, slowing her movements, confused why his hand on her arm wasn't cold.

He suddenly looked to the top of another building, hand tightening on her arm until she nearly cried out. He jerked her into motion and pushed her ahead of him down the open end of the alley.

Orihime stumbled on before him, her back like ice, her legs refusing to work, making her steps slow and ungainly.

"I know you can move faster than that," he grumbled, shoving her into the main alley and taking the lead, half dragging her along by her arm, his eyes raised along the surrounding rooftops.

She tried to move quicker, feet lethargic. "What do you want?"

Farther down the alley they came upon another inlet much like the first, but this one with fewer rear doorway openings from the enclosing shops. Orihime braced herself as his grip on her arm changed, tossing her against the red brick wall.

His stare leveled on her as she tried to regain the breath forced out of her at the impact. "I'll take that promise now."

She took a rattling breath, frowning at him. "I won't."

"You owe me," he growled, stepping nearer, making her spine ache with cold. "I could've let them kill you just now."

She crossed her arms clumsily in an attempt to stop her trembling, fingers shaking with the bitter cold and fear. "What do you want from me?"

His hand rested at the katana hilt at his waist as he estimated her coolly. "I want what you gave them." He looked quickly to the rooftop behind her, scowling. His eyes dropped to her again. "Promise!"

Orihime's mind was swarming with words from Ichigo and Renji. She could easily promise anything and refuse to deliver on whatever he demanded. A promise to an Arrancar didn't have to be kept, she rationalized.

"Say it!" His attention went back to the building behind her. "Your promise!"

Orihime felt it then, too. The stir in spiritual pressure. Not strong, just enough to get his attention. No one she knew, that was for certain.

In the flicker of seconds that it took her to debate a false promise, Grimmjow's hand closed over her arm, grip so fierce she thought he meant to sever it by merely clenching. She dropped to her knees, mouth opening as only a stunted cry came out.

He released her arm as she pulled it close and glared back at him, his gaze farther down the alley until going back to her.

"Foolish girl. Promise me," he said tightly.

She didn't mean to, but Orihime felt herself nod slightly as she cradled her arm close to her chest, her back like ice, the cold seeping along her shoulders and arms.

He sprung from her sight, leaping onto the rooftop of one of the alley's surrounding buildings, followed seconds later by two black-clad forms that Orihime knew were shinigami. She exhaled a shaky breath, pressing her numb spine to the wall behind her, her vision unsteady as her fingers lightly touched her damaged arm.

The stench of the garbage around her was almost welcome.

It was where she belonged, she thought. She'd promised Grimmjow _something_.

For a few long moments she caught her breath, refusing the tears that wanted to fall, her vision swirling before her. She hoped the shinigamis who'd chased after Grimmjow would destroy him, but she had little faith in it.

"I won't keep it," she told herself. "It's not a real promise." She gingerly pulled her sweater back from her arm, even the gentle movement sending new pain along the length of it. She unbuttoned her blouse cuff and slid the light material back, grimacing at the large bruises already crossing her arm in long lines.

She leaned back against the wall and slowly stood up, hoping Renji would understand why she'd given her word to the opposing force.

Again.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story, and for the imput.


	15. Mortal

It was just after dusk when Grimmjow found the pair of Arrancar he'd been trailing for half an hour. He didn't spend much of his time trying to find them, usually spotting them by chance several times a week over the last month, but making contact only once.

He'd wanted to get more information out of them when he'd left them dead in the alley after their attack on Orihime -- not to finish a job he knew he couldn't or to seek further vengeance -- but to glean particulars of their resurrections.

But they'd been gone by the time he'd returned from being chased off by the two shinigami who had interfered with his conversation with the Living girl. It was an interference that had ended well for him, slaughtering the more powerful for the shinigami while the other stood helplessly by before fleeing.

"Insult to Soul Reapers," he mumbled as he watched Loly and Menoly argue on the rooftop lower than the one he watched from. For a while now they'd been squabbling, the high pitch of Loly's voice echoing tinnily off the taller building behind them, allowing him to pinpoint their location easily.

He leaped to where they stood before they were even aware of him, Loly drawing her tanto despite the fear shielding her pink eyes. Menoly held her ground only slightly better, turning a fierce look on him as he approached.

"We've got no business with you!" Loly cried, pointing the blade at him.

Menoly refused to back up as he reached them. "You can't hurt us, Grimmjow. We're better than you now!"

He ignored her boasts, one hand resting at the hilt of his katana. "I want answers. Tell me what I want to know and I won't kill you both."

Loly's hand angled the tanto tighter, eyes narrowing. "You can't defeat us. Mortal!"

He laughed sharply, making Menoly take a step back at the sudden glint in his eyes. "You'll never get Aizen's affections, you bratty bitch." In one fluid movement he backhanded her into a smokestack thirty feet away. She crumpled against the hot pipe, the smell of scorching skin polluting the air.

Menoly dashed to her side instinctively, dragging the body a few feet away as Grimmjow crossed the rooftop to them. She stood hastily, summoning a cero she knew would be more rude than effective against him.

"She's right," she spat out, bracing herself for her own demise. "You can't --"

"You're saner than she is," he said. "You can answer me. And if you behave yourself, I might even _let_ you live forever."

Menoly frowned warily, looking at him askance as he stopped a few feet away. "I can do that now. What do you want?"

"Same as you. A place at the top in the Realm," he told her, chuckling. "The very top. Her," he nodded to Loly's lifeless form, "how long for her to revive?"

Menoly's suspicions rose, making her stand taller at his query. "How long?"

"How long?!" he shouted, stepping nearer as she flinched. "Answer me!"

She looked to the girl at her feet before meeting Grimmjow's demanding glare. "Why do you want to know?"

* * *

The night was still and warmer than usual for late September as Renji skirted the rooftops of Karakura Town later that week. It was quiet, the only traffic a few businessmen tottering home after the bars had closed down, singing an outlandish song leftover from their karaoke attempts earlier, wobbling from side to side, arm in arm along the sidewalk.

Renji's attention left them and returned to the streets ahead as he darted to the next rooftop, and the next. There was no trace of reiatsu moving along the breeze that lifted and settled among the moderately tall buildings. Nothing resembling Hollow or Arrancar, and certainly nothing as intense as Espada.

He stood at the edge of a building, looking into the alley below, seeing nothing save a crowd of day old baked goods strewn among the topless bins where the stray cats were gorging themselves.

It was an ignoble place to die, he thought, but that was where Urahara had said he'd found the schoolgirl's bruised and nearly lifeless body. Being dropped off the side of a building wasn't typical of Arrancar, Espada, or Hollow, he knew. They didn't need to push anyone over a rooftop. Even the weakest Hollow and only moderately powered Arrancar that he knew prowled the town was far too powerful to resort to shoving anyone off a rooftop to their death.

"Grimmjow did," he breathed aloud, frowning at the alley below. He also knew it had only been for effect, to frighten Orihime before he dropped her. Grimmjow's manner was more indicative of the spinal damage inflicted upon the increasing number of Twelfth Division casualties that were amounting in Kurotsuchi's exam room. Whoever pushed the girl to her eventual death was not Grimmjow or a Hollow. Probably not a very powerful Arrancar, either.

He twisted the hilt of Zabimaru at his scabbard, thoughts turning to other matters.

It took only a few quick bounds to find her street, building, and then her window. Renji paused at the window he'd first seen Orihime sitting in several weeks ago. He had a few qualms about peeking into the darkened room, but the hour was late, well past midnight and more near daybreak, and he didn't think he'd find her in any embarrassing situation.

Inside he was met by only darkness, the outline of the desk, the back of her futon farther into the room, the door to the hall beyond, everything the opposite angle than he was used to seeing it. To his right was the kitchen window, so he moved left, trying to recall the layout of Orihime's apartment.

It wasn't the bathroom as he thought it would be, but her bedroom. The nearly sheer mauve curtain panels hung over most of his view, which at first raised his cautions over curious, prying eyes until he saw the blinds raised above the window.

His eyes adjusted to the meager light shone from the sliver of a moon behind him, grinning as he recognized her. Just below the window her bed was pushed almost to the wall, the shapely form beneath the blanket obviously her, the bedclothes pulled to her chin, her face turned from him as she lay on her side, a pile of unruly auburn hair on the pillow. The blanket wasn't covering her back, but angled over her hip, exposing her nightwear. After a moment he recognized the black t-shirt he'd given her after she'd healed Rukia of her injuries, the gray sports logo barely readable across her back in the poor lighting.

A smile slowly crossed his face. He hadn't been trying to catch a glimpse of her in her pajamas, but he did like how she looked in his shirt. Against urges to slip inside her room for a moment -- just to make sure she was all right, not to wake her up, not to put a hand to that mass of soft hair sprawled across her pillow or catch a brief scent of honeysuckle or half a dozen of the other excuses he made to himself -- he resisted and left the window for Urahara's shop across town to collect his gigai.

Renji didn't quite get that far. He was still six blocks from Urahara's shop when he felt the collapse of meager spiritual pressure south, followed by a wave of stronger presence, and went there to investigate. Twelfth Division's lack of experience was showing as Renji came on the scene.

The street was littered with three Hollows dying, their forms heaving in fatal spasms as two shinigami brandished their swords at the last remaining Hollow that was wounded and screeching.

Renji drew his sword to assist, but the larger of the Twelfth members sneered a "_Save it, Six! We've got this_!" in his direction.

Renji stood his ground, not about to sheath his sword at the whim of a probationary. He stood at the ready, watching them fight down the last Hollow, noting their textbook techniques and lack of any real skill yet. When the Hollow succumbed into a heap, the Twelfth members turned to him, looking triumphant and a bit overwhelmed at the same time.

"Never turn down assistance," Renji advised as they returned their swords to their holsters.

The shorter shinigami suddenly recognized Renji and made a quick bow. "We're sorry, Vice-Captain Abarai. We didn't realize it was you."

The taller shinigami bowed reluctantly, nodding. "Vice-Captain." He looked to the alley guiltily. "Actually, we could have used your aid ten minutes ago."

Renji looked to the alley, frowning.

"Big guy, but not a Hollow. Something else," the shorter shinigami said as they all walked to the alley entrance. "Never seen anything like him, but --"

"It sounds like that Espada that's loose," the taller shinigami said as they moved among the carefully stored garbage cans.

Renji's attention sharpened at the word. "Grimmjow?"

"I think that's the one," the shorter shinigami said as they paused at the last garbage can.

Crumpled against the block wall was a third Twelfth member, his torso bent over a gaping wound at his sternum, his white robes eerie in the dark of night. Renji looked to the other shinigami.

"He was with us when we cornered the Hollows," the taller member said, scowling at his fallen comrade. "He fell back suddenly and said he was taking on the leader."

"Hollows don't usually have leaders," Renji said, kneeling to see the dead shinigami better. The wound in his chest was deep, bits of white bone trailing from the opening in his chest. "How well did you see him? This leader."

Both Twelfth members sighed in unison. "Tall, blue hair, hole in his abdomen," the shorter said. "Mask on the right of his face. At his jaw."

Renji nodded. "It was Grimmjow." He stood up and appraised the lower ranked shinigamis. "Are you taking him back to Soul Society tonight?"

They looked to each other, neither too anxious to speak. "We've been ordered to take any casualties to Kisuke Urahara's shop," the taller one said reluctantly. "Odd thing is, there was this great surge in spiritual pressure when Munigi went down. Like a swell that just knocked out of the alley."

"Unlike any of the Hollows we encountered," the other added. "When I got here there was that Grimmjow thing and he had Munigi by the robe, and just let him fall. Never seen anything like it."

"White robes," the taller mumbled, eyes on the man against the wall.

Renji nodded. "I'm going to Urahara's tonight. I can take him there for you."

Both Twelfth members stood straighter, stiffening at what they considered an affront. "Twelfth doesn't need --"

"Spare me the pride speech," Renji said, rubbing the back of his neck, muttering a mild curse. "Either grab him and we'll go, or I'll take him myself. It's up to you."

Squad arrogance dipped, and the Twelfth members both shrugged. "We don't have to deliver him _ourselves_, Vice-Captain. We are still on duty in this sector," the shorter one said.

The other nodded. "We'd appreciate your assistance, Vice-Captain Abarai.

Renji figured as much. New probationaries were always full of bluster, but barring Eleventh Division, it was usually short-lived, especially when it involved venturing into a sector outside their assignment. "For your report," he said, looking back to the dead shinigami, "you can include Grimmjow's name. Captain Kurotsuchi is familiar with him."

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story._


	16. Holding Out

Orihime was unaware of Renji appearing at her window that night, nor of him catching a glimpse of her as she, Ichigo, and Tatsuki arrived at Karakura Civil High School the next morning. He didn't try to get their attention, as he had the corpse of the Twelfth Division member with him, simply watching as she disappeared into the brick block building.

By the time he got to Urahara's shop rear entrance the sun was arching across the eastern sky, warming the back porch where Jinta and Hiyori were sitting on their knees, staring at each other intensely as Ururu looked on.

It was too late to double around to the front of the shop to spare them the sight of the corpse, and it wasn't like any of them were new to Urahara or Soul Society matters, so Renji climbed the two steps to the porch. Ururu was the only one to look to him.

"Good morning, Abarai-san," she said with a small smile which grew more somber as she looked to the form over his shoulder. "Oh, from Twelfth Division?"

"Yes." Renji frowned at Jinta where the boy was hunched over his bent legs, hands stiff on his knees as he glared at Hiyori's equally sour face, pigtails tight at either side of her head, both taking their staring seriously. "What are you two doing?"

"It's a stare-down," Ururu told him hushedly as Jinta and Hiyori's scowls increased on each other.

Renji saw Jinta's eye twitch as Ururu opened the shop door behind the boy. "Looks like something you'd be good at," he said to her as he passed through the doorway.

"I already won both of them," she said, following him down the back hall of the shop. "Now it's the losers turns."

There was a slight giggle to her tone as she said it and Renji nodded as they continued down the hall.

"You can take that to the basement and put it with the others," she said. "Urahara-san always keeps them there."

Renji didn't inquire what he really wanted to of her. "How many others?"

"Just one right now," she said, skipping ahead of him as he reached the basement door. She opened it wide. "From Twelfth, too. Urahara-san's been down there all night."

Renji paused before taking the first step, mind wandering along other paths as he thought about the shopkeeper's feline friend. "All night? Uh, maybe you should stay up here, Ururu." He looked farther down the hall for signs of Yoruichi. "He might be busy."

"Miss Yoruichi-san is with Tessai-san in the front," Ururu said with her usual blank face. "She's not down there."

_So much for trying to be tactful,_ he thought, descending into the basement with his burden. "Thanks, Ururu."

Urahara was sitting slumped at a stool over a work table to one side of the lab when Renji got there, his hat to one side of him on the granite surface, face cheek side down on what looked to be notes, the fluorescent lights still on overhead. Renji shook his head and cleared his throat. When the man at the table didn't move, he called out louder.

"Hey, Urahara! You want this or not?"

Urahara's head popped up, his posture straightening quickly, nearly knocking himself off the stool. He glanced to Renji sleepily, one hand automatically pawing around for his hat. He slammed it onto his messy hair and grinned when he saw Renji.

"Ah, well, someone's been busy," he said a little too eagerly. "On the table there," he said, pointing.

Renji carefully put the body on the designated table, noting the cork matting beneath, again curious at it. The chest wound stared back at him as Urahara came over to the table.

"You can't say Orihime was there when _this_ happened," Renji said as the shopkeeper bent over the form for a cursory examination. "She was home in bed when this one was losing to Grimmjow."

Urahara sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up. "You can vouch for that?"

By the sly grin working across the man's face Renji knew Urahara wasn't really asking about the obvious facts of his statement. "The two Twelfth Division members who witnessed the fight said it was someone matching Grimmjow's description," he said without humor despite Urahara's attempt at lightning the topic. "They said nothing about a woman or girl or any other witnesses."

Urahara nodded, sighing. "So if or when I find Miss Orihime's reiryoku present it'll just be a mystery?"

"Yes." Renji crossed his arms and stared at the corpse as Urahara pulled a ripped piece of the white robe from where it stuck at the wound.

"It's nearly impossible to transfer reiryoku, Renji," he said as he walked back to a shelf against the wall, eyes raised over the small jars of reeds on one of the higher planks. "Technically, that would make it reiatsu. But reiatsu is force; any reiryoku transferred by other means is rare, but possible."

Renji frowned as the shopkeeper returned with a handful of reeds. "What other methods of transfer?"

Urahara shrugged. "Aside from what is absorbed through utter terror upon death, not much else."

"You're not mentioning sexual contact," Yoruichi said from the foot of the staircase, fully dressed.

Both men looked to her as she crossed the cement floor, flashing a smile at Renji before she leaned over Urahara's shoulder for a look at the corpse.

"Damn, woman, even I wasn't going to go _there_," Urahara muttered.

Renji's arms had dropped to his sides at the mention, hands tensing into fists. "That's ridiculous. Out of the question."

Urahara shrugged. "Which is why I didn't mention it." He looked to Yoruichi still hovering close. "Leftover reiryoku from intense sexual encounters generally shows up as reiatsu, and is so brief it only registers immediately after contact. So we can probably rule that out."

"You _can_ rule it out," Renji said tightly. "What other conditions?"

"That's it." Urahara sorted through the reeds in his hand, measuring each against the others. "It isn't causally absorbed through general contact."

"Did you tell him the good news?" Yoruichi asked, eyes on Renji as he looked on.

"Not yet."

Yoruichi gave Renji a wide smile. "Good news for you, Renji, and her, too." She gave the corpse a final glance. "I'm going up to put Hiyori in a room for her exam. One where everything is nailed down this time."

Urahara nodded as she moved to the stairs. "Better that way." He selected four reeds and set the others to a small cart at the table's side that was covered with a white linen cloth. "She's right about the good news, Renji. Have you spoken with Miss Inoue since you got back from Soul Society?"

Renji shook his head, watching the other man fold back the cloth draped over the second shelf under the cart's surface. "But I know she was home when this happened."

Urahara's mischievous smile came back, irking Renji, but he didn't voice the thoughts on his mind. "If reiryoku or even reiatsu could be absorbed with such casual contact, the only circumstances for Orihime to have contracted any foreign elements would be from that Espada Four who served as her keeper in Hueco Mundo, far as I can see. Hers is a pure strain, untainted by even Ichigo's, which is saying a lot, I can tell you, Renji," he added, watching the shinigami's nearest hand ball into a fist again. "Don't let it get your hackles up, Abarai. It was just an illustration of my point."

Renji bit back the words he wanted to lower on the shopkeeper, watching as the man stuck the reeds in a narrow topped glass vial and swirl them inside. "What's the good news?"

Urahara set the glass on the cart and motioned for Renji to follow him. "Since you haven't spoken with Miss Inoue yet you probably don't know about her attack over the weekend." His smile turned less amused at the look of alarm that snapped over Renji's face. "I see you didn't know."

"Is she all right?"

"Oh, yes. Twelfth Division found Grimmjow and gave chase." He nodded to the form on another table covered with a sheet as they reached it. "Hence specimen from two days ago." He pulled back the sheet to reveal another shinigami with a familiar chest wound. "Orihime's okay, Renji. Just shaken."

Renji's jaw tightened as he looked at the dead shinigami. "What happened?"

Urahara told him in as much detail as he could. His own knowledge of the event was secondhand from the surviving shinigami that had found Orihime cornered by Grimmjow in the alley, and he hadn't spoken with her for her account. Most of his report had come from Ichigo, and that had been brief, as Orihime had been reluctant to tell any of her friends about the ordeal.

Renji listened, nodding curtly, fury welling within him. "That's the good news? Damn, Urahara, what's good about it?"

"It's another sighting of Grimmjow, Renji," he said with a sigh, pulling the sheet back over the form. "And, she claimed to have seen Loly and Menoly previous to Grimmjow's encounter."

Renji frowned, recalling the names he'd only read in reports. He nodded slowly. "That's _good_? Now she's got two rabid bitches chasing after her? How the hell is that good?"

"They're female Arrancar, maybe even the ones I've found trace signatures of on a few of the shinigami brought in lately," he said steadily. "It was Arrancar on the schoolgirl, too. If I can match it to one of them, well, it's promising."

Renji considered this as he followed Urahara back to the first body on the other table. "How? You were so sure about it being Orihime's signature on --"

"I'm certain about that," the shopkeeper said seriously. "But it means there are Arrancar in Karakura Town. It still means she was there, Abarai." His tone lowered. "It would also be helpful if the Arrancar were seen by someone else too, besides Miss Orihime."

Renji thought for a moment as Urahara paused, reeds and glass back in hand as he looked at the most recent corpse. "No one seen Loly or Menol?."

"Nope."

"The shinigami that chased Grimmjow --"

"The surviving one didn't, that we know. Can't speak for the one over there," Urahara said, jabbing a thumb at the other body they'd just left. "Yoruichi checked the area shortly after the incident. No sign of either of the female Arrancar Grimmjow supposedly killed in front of Orihime."

"Maybe they weren't dead. Maybe they were just injured and fled the area," Renji offered, watching the man anxiously finger the reeds in the glass.

"Maybe Grimmjow returned them to the Realm. Maybe one wasn't dead and took the other off somewhere. Maybe they weren't there at all, Renji," Urahara said, watching him bristle at the suggestion. "Or maybe there's a bounty out for Miss Inoue's return. Maybe a lot of things."

"Why would she lie about seeing them?" Renji had the sudden urge to snap every reed in the man's hand, if nothing else than to have something to snap in half. "Maybe that's why her signature was found with Arrancar. They had contact with her in Hueco Mundo, too."

Urahara's face lifted in genuine surprise. "Oh? How so?"

Renji grinned at the shopkeeper's ignorance. "You didn't know that? Looks like your contact in Soul Society isn't giving you all the information."

"I did _not_ know that part," Urahara mumbled, setting the glass back on the cart. "If it was only casual contact, it doesn't matter." He frowned. "But I should have been told that part...It still doesn't explain the combined signatures."

Realization that the shopkeeper hadn't had access to some of the reports on Orihime's stay in Hueco Mundo brought more promise to the subject for Renji. "Have you figured Grimmjow's signature yet?"

"If you're talking about a common signature included with shinigami that have been killed by spinal and reiryoku removal, yes, I believe I have." Urahara looked to the table where he'd been sleeping, two of the six vials in the stand lined up there including blue and a thin layer of peach along with two other separate color substances. "I have no actual linking proof that it's him, but this," he looked to the most recent corpse Renji had delivered, "might be the deciding factor."

Renji nodded, reluctant to give voice to the idea running through his mind, but if it could help steer Urahara's conclusions away from Orihime, he deemed it necessary. "What about healing someone? Would that person collect her signature?"

Urahara's attention pricked up at the suggestion. "Normally I'd say no, but if the person being healed was spiritually aware, I'd have to say there's a distinct likelihood." He put on his most inviting smile. "You got anyone in mind, Renji?"

He figured if Urahara knew of Orihime's healing of Grimmjow's arm he would have already considered the prospect, but since it hadn't been mentioned, maybe Kurotsuchi was keeping more from his one-time colleague in Soul Society. Merely voicing the words lent a commonness between them he didn't want to think about. "She restored Grimmjow's arm before his last fight with Ichigo in Hueco Mundo. Would that do it? Could he absorb her signature, or however it happens?"

The delight of sudden interest on Urahara's face made Renji want to punch him, hard, but he refrained.

"Oh? Yes, I'd say yes. Healing powers such as hers are very malleable. Nothing like what I suspect her protective and fighting powers to be, which by nature are more aggressive," he said, voice rising in excitement. "That would be an interesting study." His face dropped in confusion. "There was nothing about a restored arm in the reports."

"Maybe she forgot to include it. There was a lot going on just after the War, and she was interviewed shortly afterward. Hell, I'm surprised she could even remember her name after that ordeal," Renji said, and then added more pointedly, "or maybe Captain Kurotsuchi's holding out on you. Maybe he gave you a half-assed version of his report."

Urahara was left bleaker for a long moment. "Enjoying yourself, aren't you, lieutenant?" he asked with a slight growl.

Renji returned his threatening grimace. "Why are you so intent on pinning this Arrancar theory and the slayings on Orihime? To prove some bullshit idea you want to believe in?"

"Not at all, I'm just following the evidence, and it looks like she was there, Renji," Urahara said, his tone lightening as the shinigami took a step toward him. He chuckled, hoping to alleviate Renji's growing anger. "I told you. I've got nothing against the girl. Her powers are astonishing, and I'd like to study them. That's it."

"She didn't do this." Renji's hand rested on the side of the table near the corpse. "You _know_ that."

"Ugh! How long do I have to wait while you two yammer away down here?" Hiyori's squeaky tone echoed from the stairs as she _thunked_ down them with angry steps. "I've got stuff to do today, Urahara-san! Let's go, madman. Get with it!"

"I'll be a few more minutes," Urahara began, looking relieved at the disturbance, raising a finger and smiling at the girl. "I've just --"

"You call this mess a laboratory?" She cast a critical glance around the room as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Sheesh!"

Urahara frowned at her mocking tone. "It's not on par with what we had in Soul Society, but I like to think it's adequate."

She shrugged. "Think what you want, madman." She looked to Renji as she met them. "Hey, Abarai-san."

"Hi, Hiyori," he said as she stopped before Urahara and put both hands on her hips, face turned impudently at him in annoyance.

Urahara tried to pat her shoulder but she shrugged his hand away. "Go back up and I'll be right there. Sorry to keep you waiting."

She gave Renji a huff and turned back to clomp up the stairs. "Come on!"

Urahara tried to work up a guiltless smile. "She's trying out a gigai designed exclusively for the Vizards."

Renji watched her short form disappear at the top of the stairs before looking back to Urahara. "Why her? I'd think Shinji or Kensei would be a better test subject."

"Yeah, I used to think that, too, for the first twenty years they were in the Living World, but Hiyori burns through gigais faster than anyone else. Quite the challenge," he said, leaving the vial on the cart to go to the work table where his fan was lying abandoned.

Hiyori's appearance reminded him of another subject Renji had been meaning to ask Urahara about. "You and Kensei trained Ichigo for his demonstration befor the Gotei 13. Why don't you have his reiryoku signature mapped in triplicate?"

Urahara flipped his fan open, but didn't try to hide behind it this time. "Isshin Kurosaki made me promise not to test the boy in any manner concerning his signature before training began, Abarai," he said seriously. "Like you said, I should have buckets on the boy, but I don't because I made a promise to Kurosaki-san. I keep my promises."

Renji nodded, estimations of both the shopkeeper and Isshin raising a notch. "Where's my gigai?"

* * *

Renji had wanted to intercept Orihime earlier in the day, but had been too late when school broke that afternoon. Most of that had been Mrs. Tanaka's fault.

The woman's early intervention into his morning resulted in Renji cleaning the gutter lining the roof overhang of the three story apartment house of leaves and debris, a job that took most of the day as she watched from below and gave needless advice and directions. By the time he'd cleaned up and checked in with Soul Society for any new instructions from his captain, it was past school hours, so he headed straight for Orihime's apartment.

There was no answer to his first set of knocks, nor the second, and Renji was starting to think she'd gone with Tatsuki somewhere after school or stayed after for her club when a cheery voice caught him from the hall stairwell.

"You're back!" Orihime cried with a smile, and then lowered her tone to a softer one as she looked to the nearest apartment door. "When did you get here?"

Renji glanced to her with more concern than usual, judging her bouncy walk as she met him, keys in her hand. "This morning. How are you, Orihime?" She moved to the door, face smiling up at him as her fingers fumbled with the key at the doorknob. "I heard what happened."

Her face dropped a little, but then her smile was back quickly and she shrugged one shoulder, turning the key in the lock. "I'm okay. Just some bruises. Nothing really happened, Renji."

"That's not what it sounded like to me."

She unlocked the door's other locks and let them in, a waft of warmer air greeting them. "Who told you?"

"Urahara." He locked the door behind them as the fingers of one of her hands moved on her opposite arm.

She took a deep breath, eyes resting on the rampant dragon in fanciful blue design on his black t-shirt. "I'm all right. Really."

He leaned down and kissed her briefly, tempted to wrap his arms around her in a stronger hold, except that she had her school bag between them. She kissed him back eagerly, sighing when he stepped back.

"How was your trip?" she asked, swinging the bag by the strap and waving him into the room. "Can you stay for the longer testing now?"

"I'm starting the seventy-two hour one tomorrow, but I have to return to Soul Society before the extended test."

"But you get to do the test, right?" She nodded hopefully as she stowed the bag by the desk and turned to him.

He nodded. "Probably. I don't see a problem with it." He put a hand to her shoulder, fingers pulling a tendril of hair, watching her blush faintly, smiling more. "Change clothes and we'll go get some dinner."

"Okay."

She nodded and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before leaving into her bedroom.

* * *

In five minutes they were back on the sidewalk, making their way four blocks across town to a noodle shop that she promised would have his favorite dishes-to-go. She stayed close to his side, partly from the stiffer wind that had blown in with the gray rain clouds overhead, replacing the sunny day, and partly because she relished his return more than she thought she would.

A fine mist settled across the streets after they got their order, making the overhead streetlamps turn on too early in the shadows. They ducked back to Renji's apartment, with he glancing critically to the eves troughs above them as they climbed the back staircases, wondering if his patch jobs at the gutter seams were cured enough to hold rain yet.

Orihime was right about the noodle shop, which offered dozens of dishes, including Renji's favorites, as well as hers. Conversation had turned from her impending exams the following week to the dress competition that upcoming weekend she was to attend with the Handcraft's Club.

"I can't promise to, but I'll try to be there," he said when she asked him to come along. "It depends on how this gigai testing goes."

She nodded, curling her legs to her side as she sat on the futon in what was passing for his living room as he put their take-out containers on the small counter in the kitchen area after they'd finished the six varieties of noodle dishes. The enka music from below wasn't as loud as it had been on some of her other visits, but Mrs. Tanaka's singing was more off-key, competing with Renji's small television set resting on the only other piece of furniture in the room, an end table serving as a stand.

"There are three prizes, one for complexity of style, one for pattern-making technique, and one for general appeal," she explained. "Ishida-san would like to place in two categories, but I'd be happy with one. I think I'd like to win general appeal most."

He sat down beside her, resting an arm behind her along the futon back cushion. "Is Ishida treating you nicely?"

She nodded, knowing he wasn't asking in the obvious manner. "His issues with shinigamis are still bothering him, I think. He spends more time with Ishida-sama and it can't be easy being so alone, as a Quincy."

He nodded, letting his arm settle lower across her shoulders as the television blinked to a new show coming on. The long-sleeved violet sweater she wore was snug against his side, her plum and pink ivy decorated skirt hem over her knees, the left of which was resting at his right knee. "The boy's been through a lot."

"I'm surprised he helped at all, after the War with the Quincys. That must be rough on him still," she said softly, troubled eyes on the television game show.

Renji saw her fingers reaching bemusedly for her opposite arm, something he'd seen her do a few times already that after noon. "Let's hear it from you now, Orihime." For a moment she just looked at him, and then she sighed and consented, knowing full well what he meant.

He didn't like what he heard, but listened intently as she relayed the incident with Grimmjow and the two Arrancar over the weekend, seeing her fingers tighten and then quickly release her arm. When she finished she wouldn't look at him for a long moment, troubled eyes remaining on the TV.

He pulled her arm closer, carefully when she tensed at his touch. "Urahara didn't say anything about you getting hurt," he said, shifting to face her on the futon seat, bringing a loud creak from the springs. He slid up the sweater sleeve gently, hearing her wince slightly.

"It's okay now," she said as the long purple and blue bruises became evident across her arm.

Renji's eyes flicked to hers quickly when he saw the finger marks Grimmjow's hold had left. "That son of a bitch," he muttered, turning her arm over to see fainter marks on the inside of the appendage. "You didn't tell anyone?"

"I told Kurosaki-kun," she said, biting her lip as he watched her. "He asked, so I told him."

He nodded, his hand rubbing lightly over the marks, wishing he could erase them. He pulled down the sleeve and moved to examine her other arm, but she shook her head.

"That one's fine." She smiled more as he looked her other arm over thoroughly. "I'm fine, Renji. I was just scared."

"You don't have to tell me that when it's not true, Orihime," he said lowly, pulling her closer against his shoulder as they settled back again. He tried to shut the discussion he'd had with Urahara from his mind earlier that day, wanting rather to keep the girl with the fragrant hair at his side in his thoughts. "What did you give Loly and Menoly that Grimmjow now wants?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, Renji. That's just it. I only saw them a few times." She shuddered involuntarily, bringing his arm around her tighter. "I hate thinking about that whole time there."

He resisted asking more, determined to replace those memories with better ones. He let his arm slide farther behind her, anchoring behind her side as she turned to look at him. She lifted her face to his, eyes lowering to his lips as he kissed her slowly. She put a hand to the side of his neck, fingers just below his sideburn there as his other arm circled her waist, inching her closer until her fuzzy sweater was against him.

Her fingers slid to the nape of his neck, her lips supple on his, parting slightly under his warm breath as her knee crossed his, surprising her a little. She broke the kiss as his hand moved from her waist to behind her knee.

She caught her breath, flushed, straightening her skirt over her knee, eyes dropping to her hem under his hand, covering his hand with hers.

The fingers of his hand behind her back moved to her face, moving her hair from her eyes before going back around her waist, his other hand still on her knee beneath her nervous fingers.

"You don't have to move away," he said as she looked to their hands. His fingers pulled her knee closer across his leg again, feeling slight resistance for a few seconds before she relented and sat straighter to his side, his thumb at her kneecap making her flinch. He looked down at small red marks still remaining from her fall in the alley. "What's this?"

She looked down, groaning, her fingers moving his hand back to behind her knee, pushing her skirt back a few inches. "Just from the stuff in the alley."

He moved his head back swiftly to avoid collision as she lifted her head and looked up to him. "Damn Arrancar," he mumbled as she let her knee drape over his. "We'll take them down, Orihime."

She nodded, eyes on the black mark beneath her fingers at his neck. "I know you will." Her hand left his on her knee and found its way up his arm, gently pushing against his elbow as he toyed with her hem.

He sat back more as she rose onto one knee and settled across him, her cheeks blushing pink as she moved to tentatively straddle him, pulling her skirt over her legs at the grin on his face.

"Much better," he said, smoothing the sides of the purple skirt against her thighs as she sheepishly tucked the back of it under herself.

"Tell me if I'm too heavy, Renji," she said, her other hand returning to his shoulder, the blush still bright on her cheeks.

"Nonsense."

She sighed a little, knees hesitant against his hips as she watched his face. "I eat a lot. I know I'm not petite."

His arms moved around her waist, one hand traveling up her warm back, the other remaining at the small of it at her skirt. "You're fine the way you are, Orihime." His eyes had dropped to her chest as he said it, against his determination not to, but she only giggled. He looked back to her face, seeing part of the blush had faded. "Everything else, too."

That snapped some of the pink back to her cheeks, but didn't stop her from moving closer to kiss him. For long moment they remained close in the kiss, her mouth yielding to his in slow movements that matched his, arms locked around his neck until they were both breathless, her posture relaxing slowly against him.

When he let her ease back a few inches her hair had slipped across his face, the soles of her feet pressed to the back of his calves. She studied him for a moment, one hand combing her hair from her face as his hand moved across her leg, fingers at the back of her thigh where her skirt had pushed back a few inches, her reddened knee exposed.

She smiled amid a new blush. "I should go home, Renji. I have to study for exams for next week."

His hand tightened against her back, then slid to her hip. "Now? You want to go home _now_?"

"No." Her toes wiggled against his legs. "I think I should. I don't think ..." She bit her lower lip, faltering for her next choice of words. "I don't..."

He exhaled slowly, thumb pressing at her hip, grinning at her timid smile. "We're fine like this, Orihime," he said, sitting back more and pulling one heel closer to the futon so that it raised the angle of his leg, pitching her forward slightly. "You're sure that's the reason you want to go home?"

"I'm sure." She let herself lean closer, bringing her face to his again, resting against his chest, her heartbeat mixing with his as his hand rose from her hip to her back again. "Tanaka-san might not like me being here so late."

"Don't worry about her." He kissed her lips, then moved to one of her eyelids, feeling her fingers trace along his neck, her warm breath sigh against him. "It's not that late, Orihime, but if you're worried about it, okay."

She opened her eyes and looked to each of his, and then kissed him back before easing away. "I think I should go."

He nodded, watching her eyes cloud with something he couldn't quite read. He pulled her skirt hem lower over one of her knees, feeling her leg clench against his at the movement. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "I think so."

He sighed. "All right. I'll see you home."

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Sorry this chapter is so long. It was supposed to go with the preceding chapter. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed._


	17. Halves

Orihime tried to focus on the teacher's handwriting on the white board at the front of the classroom, knowing they were important notes she should be taking for her exams the following week.

But her mind was far away from the room, from her exams, and from pretty much everything else school-connected. She begrudgingly dragged her thoughts away from sitting on Renji's lap and focused on her notebook, only to fall again into daydreaming. This was far different from the distraction she had formerly indulged in over Ichigo Kurosaki; this time her attentions were returned. A more potent kind of distraction, she was learning.

She set her pen to the notebook paper and made herself take notes, lips moving silently as she wrote out the math equation for future reference, trying to train her thoughts back to her school work. It wasn't all her fault, the distraction, and not all of it was from Renji. Tsubaki had been at her all morning, hounding her to strengthen her lagging abilities, which was seconded by a few choice words from Shuno. Tsubaki had finally shut up when she promised to speak to Urahara about training. If the shopkeeper was still interested in testing her abilities maybe he could suggest a proper place for her to regain some of her slipped practice.

She dragged through the rest of the day of class and then packed her book bag with nearly every school book for the upcoming exams and made her way home that afternoon. It was a lonely trip, as Tatsuki had taken a different way to the dojo -- with Yuki, Orihime had noticed -- and Ichigo had split off from his pack of friends when a Hollow sighting had demanded his attention, leaving Kon in his place.

She eluded Kon's attempts at a dinner invitation and made her way the last few blocks to her street alone, the book bag strap digging into her shoulder under the weight of her study materials. As she reached her apartment building and opened the door a flash of black with a bit of red caught her eye from overhead and she looked up in time to see Renji flash across the tops of the surrounding buildings in the same direction Ichigo had taken earlier.

She smiled and went inside the building.

She climbed the twisting staircases to her floor, hearing a low-key chastisement from a mother in one of the first apartments over a student's marks and the impending exams, which still mingled with the smell of sesame rolls Obaachan had baked the preceding day. Orihime had already eaten half of the dozen given to her by the kindly old grandmother, who had shown her photos of her new granddaughter, who looked to Orihime like any other wrinkled, round-faced infant with a black fuzz of hair on its head.

She reached her apartment and let herself in and spent the next ten minutes changing out of her school uniform and into street clothes before sorting through her school books. Wind whistled through the seal of the window near her desk, and she went there to secure it better, leaning heavily on the pane frame when it refused to budge. She went back into her bedroom and did the same to the window there, making a mental note to rearrange the room furnishings so the bed was more central to the apartment, and warmer.

With thoughts of colder weather in mind, she went back into the small living room and cleared her beadwork from the kotatsu table and lifted the top. Beneath it was the electric motor for the heater suspended in the wooden framework.

"You'll probably let me down this winter, too," she grumbled at it, pulling the cord from where it was wound around the holding hooks. The table's performance had only been sporadic the preceding winter, and it had made her cherish the days Obaachan's bread-baking helped warm the apartment. She found the end and crawled to the nearest electrical outlet at the wall and plugged it in, hoping. She sat back on her knees and pulled her long skirt over her legs, watching the bare table frame. "Just don't catch fire."

For a few moments she watched as nothing happened, until she put her hand to the top pad of the heater and found it only mildly warm, and buzzing. She frowned, and was about to look under the frame at the small motor when there was a poof and a louder buzz, and a small whiff of smoke floated up.

Orihime lunged for the wall outlet and jerked the cord out before thinking about the action. The buzzing sizzled to a stop and the smoke dissipated, leaving a whiff of burnt something. She sat back on her knees and scowled at the table.

"That's a decided _no_," she said with a sigh. She leaned forward to inspect the heater more closely, but then looked to the door seconds before Renji knocked on it. She jumped to her feet and answered it.

"Hi!" she said with a smile to his grin, which dropped as he looked behind her, eyes searching the room.

"Are you cooking? Something burning?"

"No," she said with a giggle and let him in, noting he was in street clothes, a thick charcoal hooded-sweatshirt and jeans in place of his shinigami robes. She shut the door and told him about the table, gesturing to the frame that was no longer smoking but still smelling foul

He nodded, crouching to lift one edge of the table frame to see the hidden motor. He looked to her as she knelt beside him, taking the opportunity to put a gentle kiss on her lips, watching her smile.

"I saw you head out after school today," she said, eyes resting on his mouth before rising to meet his. "Success?"

He nodded, and stood, lifting her to her feet by her elbow. "But they had one injury from Twelfth from another section Ichigo and I weren't with. Nothing too severe," he added as her eyes grew wider. "Minor, but Urahara wants you to come down to the shop to heal," he said, looking to the school books stacked on her desk. "If you've got the time."

She nodded quickly. "I want to ask him something."

Renji frowned as she crossed the room to collect her coat from the few pegs on the wall. "Ask Urahara something?"

She nodded, shrugging into the thick coat that was presently minus its sheepskin lining. She flipped her hair from the back of the fur-trimmed hooded collar, deciding the lining unnecessary for the weather. "I want to train more with my protective powers, and with Tsubaki."

He was already shaking his head, one hand on the doorknob to open it. "We'll take care of Grimmjow, Orihime. You don't have to worry about fighting."

"I know you will, but I should practice more."

They made their way down the hall and to the staircase and out of the building. Orihime pulled her collar tighter around her neck at the cooler late afternoon breeze that had developed. Around her and Renji other pedestrians were hurrying on their way, the crispness lending haste to them en masse.

They passed a group of teen boys who turned to watch Orihime as she walked down the sidewalk behind them, bringing a drift in attention from Renji as he threw a warning glance over his shoulder.

He looked back to the top of Orihime's auburn head. "I think you should hold off on asking Urahara just yet."

Her face rose to him, a small pout at her lips. "I don't want to be defenseless, Renji. It's just a matter of time before Aizen-sama wants another war."

He sighed, his hand reaching for hers between them, bringing a smile to her as his fingers tightened over hers. "I'd rather that you put it off a while, Orihime."

This time his serious tone made her look to him for other reasons. "What do you know?" Her voice caught as her mind wandered. "Is Aizen-sama at work now? Is that why there are more Hollows lately? That's why Grimmjow and --"

"No one's heard anything of Aizen directly," he said quickly, hand firm on hers, hating the fear that leaped into her eyes at mention of the traitorous captain. He mulled over his next words, not wanting to frighten her nor pass off the reality of Urahara's potential. "You know that Urahara and Captain Kurotsuchi are of similar minds, and sometimes methods."

An uneasy grimace came over her face. "I know, except Urahara-san smiles more."

Renji was surprised by the observation. "You think so?"

She half shrugged, walking closer to him as they turned the last corner to the street leading to Urahara's shop. "Sometimes I think he has other priorities."

"I guess that's one way to put it," he said, tempted to tell her more, wondering how much would be too much information for the moment. "Well, both know your reiatsu healing signature."

She nodded, her hair bouncing against his shoulder. "That's okay, isn't it, Renji?"

He nodded. "Far as I know, yes, but your other abilities," he said, stalling for reasons he didn't even want to admit to himself, "I think you should delay letting Urahara study those."

She stopped, her hand pulling him to a halt, making him turn as her eyes arrested his. "What's going on?"

Renji ignored the few other people on the sidewalk around them as he directed her into the smaller side street that led to Urahara's shop. "Urahara's been mapping reiatsu -- mostly from Twelfth Squad corpses -- and comparing signatures to other samples he has." She nodded as he spoke, and he decided to continue a bit more. "He's found yours in a few. I don't understand it all, and there've been explanations for it, but I wouldn't be offering him any additional ability properties right now. Not yet, Orihime."

He added the last few words without emphasis, but she could hear the sincerity in them, feel their gravity in his eyes. She nodded. "I haven't done anything wrong, Renji."

"I know. He's a suspicious man. Most scientists are, I guess," he said, disliking the stiffness in her posture at his disclosure. He pulled her closer, just enough to kiss the top of her head as the people from the sidewalk cast glances their way.

She thought for a long moment, and then took a deep breath, bracing for her query. "Where was my signature found? In those killed ..." Her hands embedded in the material of his pullover. "Tell me, please."

He took her hands and brought her deeper into the narrower side street, still debating worrying her further over matters that were beyond their control at the moment. After all, she had exams coming up the following week and it would be unfair to load her up with undue worry if there was truly nothing to worry about.

They could see Urahara's shop nestled at the end of the street, and he felt her fingers lace tighter in his as they paused. For a moment he estimated the innocent bewilderment in her face before finally speaking.

"When you restored Grimmjow's arm, the healing left your imprint on his reiatsu," he said, half hoping his wording would barely touch on the truth of the matter.

Orihime understood only too well what he was trying not to tell her. "Mine was found with _his_? On the shinigami corpses?" Shock and disgust lent her eyes, her face paling. "On the ones that were impaled? Uh ... I think I'm going to be sick, Renji."

She turned to one side, standing facing the wall of a building lining the street, eyes unfocused on the gray brick before her, mouth set in a firm line. Renji stepped closer, watching her eyes squeeze shut, rubbing her back through the quilted coat exterior, feeling her tremble slightly.

"It only means that you healed him at one time," he said, his hand settling beneath the copper colored hair that fell over her hood, the skin of her neck warm to his fingers. "Hell, that's _all_ it means, Orihime. It barely even registers in the signature."

She forced herself to look at him, swallowing down her repulsion of Grimmjow. "You've seen it?"

He nodded, watching some of the queasiness leave her features, her pink complexion returning slowly. "Urahara said himself it's from healing the bastard's arm. Nothing more."

"So, everyone ... Does everyone I've healed have," she said, frowning intently, fingers reaching for the edge of his pullover, "my signature, too?"

"From what I understand, anyone with spiritual powers takes on yours during healing." He took one of her hands from the dark gray material, his thumb moving slowly across the back of her fingers. "That's all it is, okay?"

There was a slight withdrawal of her fingers in his hand, but he didn't let them slip out, a wounded expression creeping into her eyes. "Is that why he sent you to bring me in for testing?" She felt sicker yet at what she really wanted to ask him. "He thinks I'm guilty of something?"

"Like I said, he's a suspicious sort," he told her carefully, pushing her hair from her eyes with one hand, sighing. "I wanted you to know before he called you in for any more testing. That's all."

She looked up at him, nodding slowly, trying to read more in his eyes. "I think I should wait to train, Renji."

"As touching as all this cooing is," Yoruichi's masculine voice broke in from where her feline form perched on the bamboo fence farther down the alley, "we'd like to move things along, Renji."

Both Renji and Orihime flinched at the cat's imput, making him refuse the first words that came to mind as Orihime's flingers jolted at the interruption, making her emit a small '_eep_.'

Renji took Orihime's hand better in his and brought her in tow along the fence as they took the side alley to the back entrance of Urahara's shop. "Spying, are you?"

"No; waiting patiently for Miss Orihime," Yoruichi said, walking at their side along the bamboo fence top, tail high. "Kisuke is a suspicious man, Orihime, but he's not persecuting you."

"That's not what I said," Renji snapped at her, feeling Orihime's fingers tighten in his.

"Ukaru's not the most pleasant shinigami for company," Yoruichi said, no purr in her tone. "Quite tactless, in fact."

Renji gritted his teeth at the mention of the pugnacious man who'd been passed over by Zaraki and sent to Twelfth Division. Yoruichi leapt down to the pavement and met them at the back porch of the shop entrance as Renji opened the door, and then she skirted past them and down the hall before them. Renji's hand moved to Orihime's shoulder as they continued down the passageway, deep voices ahead of them making her steps slow.

Renji was listening, too. He recognized one as Ukaru, the Twelfth Division Fourth Seat, the man's booming tone echoing down the hall, spouting his usual swaggering embellishment of his most recent fight. Normally is was a voice that was bragging at the bar in Soul Society, but the topic of boasting had lessened some after he'd been denied membership in Eleventh Division, a position he'd coveted. Renji knew about the failure, as did anyone and everyone in Eleventh and Twelfth, and Ukaru's bragging had shifted to sheer irritation since he'd been appointed Fourth Seat by Captain Kurotsuchi.

Renji saw Orihime's eyes flick to an open door down the hall as a large figure stepped out for a moment, Ukaru's gaze wandering to where she stood, laughing as he turned back into the room, his voice lower. A moment later Ichigo's tone joined Ukaru's.

Orihime looked to Renji, stopping in the hall as his attention remained on the door where other men were talking.

Before she could speak Urahara's hatted head popped out of the doorway nearest them. He smiled at Orihime.

"Ah, thanks for bringing her by, Renji," he said with a nod. "Not much of an injury, but enough to lend a little insight into your healing powers, Miss Inoue."

She nodded. "In there?"

The shopkeeper nodded, glancing at Renji's frown. "Can you give her a few minutes, lieutenant?"

Ukaru's loud voice broke down the hall, followed by Ichigo's contemptuous tone. Urahara stood against the doorframe, eyes on Orihime. "An unseated member of Twelfth, injured in a confrontation with a pair of Arrancars," he said, the words making her posture stiffen. "This should yield a new set of parameters for your powers, eh?"

"Arrancar?" Renji repeated. "How's that? Female Arrancar?"

Urahara nodded as Orihime slipped past him into the room. "More good news, wouldn't you say?"

Renji peeked into the room, his view brief as Urahara stepped out and closed the door. "The same ones? Loly and Menoly?"

The shopkeeper shrugged. "That's the word, according to their introductions before Ukaru dismembered them. I don't know that they offered their names, but that's what _he_ said they told him. Oh, don't worry about them," he said with a nod to the closed door. "Female from Division Twelve. Nothing inappropriate."

Renji nodded, staring at the door. "Apparently they weren't dead when Orihime thought Grimmjow killed them."

"Apparently not."

A louder argument broke out, followed by a scuffle of crates down the hall and Urahara frowned in that direction. "Seems my guests are getting rowdy."

By the time Renji and Urahara reached the storage room farther down the hall, Ichigo and Ukaru were trading words in a lower tone, standing a foot away from each other, the two other Twelfth Division members sitting on crates against another wall, watching indifferently as the Fourth Seat went at it with the substitute.

"...every bit as you," Ichigo was emphasizing as Renji looked from him to the larger shinigami Zaraki had rejected from Eleventh. "How much can it take to halve a couple of Arrancar girls, anyway? You should have let that unseated have them."

All eyes looked to Urahara and Renji as they entered, making Ichigo step back and wave off the Fourth Seat.

"Gentlemen," Urahara said with his smile back in place, "can we desist with the arguing? We've got children in the building."

"Must be talking about you, yellow head," Ukaru said with a grin at Ichigo. He stepped back to a crate against the wall as Ichigo glared at him. Ukaru looked to Renji, eyeing him with a chuckle. "'Cuz she don't look like a child to me," he said to his fellow division men.

"Orihime? Shut the hell up," Ichigo bit at him as Renji took a step toward the man.

Ukaru held Ichigo's glare. "Ain't it a school night? Shouldn't you be home, substitute?"

Urahara stepped between the two, a hand up to each. "Let's call this one a draw, shall we?"

Ichigo turned and left the room, throwing Renji a nod. Renji followed him down the hall to another storage room, saving his present state of mind for Ukaru later.

He and Ichigo stopped before the door and Renji opened it. "You know for a fact its Loly and Menoly in here?"

They looked into the room, a clutter of wooden boxes and crates and defunct gigais stacked against a wall. At first the pile of forms appeared to be just that, old gigai parts, but after a moment it became clear to Renji what they were.

"Shit, they really are dismembered," he said as Ichigo made a gagging sound beside him.

Loly and Menoly had been severed just below the ribcages, jagged hacks that were clumsy and showed little experience with the usual finesse most shinigami demonstrated, their bodies a mangled pile of pale, disheveled uniforms, blood-matted hair and distorted appendages.

"Damn, I know Hat-n-Clogs has the tables full in the basement, but this is disturbing, even for him," Ichigo said, shaking his head.

Renji scowled as Ukaru met them and looked on at the scene over Ichigo's shoulder, grinning at the carnage like the typical Twelfth Division member that he was.

"I'd like to see her put _that_ back together," he said with a leer, nodding to the bodies.

"Shut up," Ichigo growled before looking to Renji. "I'm out of here. If I stay much longer I'm taking this guy on. Tell Orihime I said bye."

"Name the place, half-power," Ukaru said to Ichigo.

"He's not worth it, Ichigo," Renji said as Ichigo refrained from making good on his threat to Ukaru. "That's why Captain Zaraki passed on him."

Ukaru stood to his full height, bringing him just over Ichigo, but the younger shinigami left down the hall to the back door, shoving past him so that Zengetsu's hilt cuffed the man's forehead.

Ukaru rubbed his head, mumbling something at Ichigo's retreating form.

Renji's focus leveled on him. "He might be a temp, but he's not someone you want to cross swords with, idiot." He looked back into the room before his eyes narrowed on Ukaru again. "What the hell's that supposed to mean, put them back together?"

"Resurrect them." Ukaru glanced down the hall to where Orihime was healing the female shinigami. "Doesn't look like much of a thing, does she, for being able to raise the dead, huh?"

Renji's attention sharpened on him. "Keep your --"

"Stacked, though, you gotta say." Ukaru neared a line he wasn't aware of. "Guess that's _two_ things she'd be good for. Too weak-looking to be much of a fighter, break easily, but --"

"Shut up!" Renji's fist grabbed the excess of shinigami robe, slamming Ukaru against the wall beside the door, forcing the air from his lungs and nearly lifting the man off his feet. "That's a human girl, not some Rukongai tramp you owe money," he said lowly, watching the man's face darken. "Shut the hell up or you're going to be on a slab in the basement and your captain's going to be filling your seat, got it?"

Ukaru's hand rested at his sword hilt, surprise breaking across his face. "Just stating the obvious. Can't help but notice, Abarai. Didn't mean shit by it."

Renji dropped him, making Ukaru slump as he straightened his robes. His fellow squad members filed out into the hall from the room farther down, glancing his way.

"We're going. Get your ass in gear, Ukaru," the taller one called.

Ukaru left Renji at the door without a word, joining his fellow squad members and exiting out the back entrance. Renji turned back to look in the room, thoughts closing in on him as he considered Ukaru's words. He hadn't gotten very far into replaying them than he became aware of Orihime looking into the room, the top of her head just below his line of vision in front of him. He took her arm and pulled her to the side, closing the door on the grisly view.

"You shouldn't be looking at that," he said as she slowly turned her eyes up to him.

"That's Loly and Menoly?" She swallowed, sickened at the brief glimpse, crossing her arms despite the warmth of the shop and her coat. "They're butchered. Even Grimmjow didn't do that much to them."

He nodded and ushered her down the hall, seeing the last female member of Twelfth Division leave hurriedly out the back door, her wounds healed. "Finished here?"

She nodded. "I need so much more practice, but there's not much opportunity."

"But that's a good thing, right?" Urahara said as he stepped out from the room Orihime had just left as they reached it.

"Yes, it is good," she said with a short bow. "I'll get quicker with practice, but it's still good there's little need for healing."

"We're much obliged," Urahara said, nodding. "You'll see her home, Renji? Nasty night out with that ex-Espada on the loose still."

Renji was uncertain what, if anything, Urahara meant by the mention, but he nodded and took Orihime's hand.

* * *

They didn't go right home, not to Orihime's apartment. A slight drizzle had developed during the time it took her to heal the shinigami woman's injuries, and they ducked into Renji's small apartment.

He'd planned to offer her a soda, but he was out. Out of everything nearly he realized as he looked in the small refrigerator, except for a few beers, which she declined.

He found the canister of cocoa he'd bought a few days ago, under advice from Rangiku, of all people, when he was last in Soul Society and inquiring of her for her second favorite beverage. She hadn't asked him why, just given him that sly smile she reserved for blackmailing, according to Izuru Kira. Unfortunately, Renji was also familiar with it.

He held up the container of cocoa. "Do you like hot cocoa?"

Orihime smiled, nodding eagerly. "Ooh, yes." She'd discarded her coat at the futon and they now stood in the small kitchen area, a less warbling version of folk music drifting up from Mrs. Tanaka's apartment below. "I have a lot of homework tonight," she said hesitantly, adding a timid smile.

Renji found a small saucepan -- one of only two pots he had, actually -- and filled it with water from the faucet. "I won't kidnap you for too long."

She stood at the sink and watched him set the pot on the single hot plate burner. "I don't mind." Slight pink flushed her cheeks, and she said, "Usually."

"I'll remember that." He switched the hot plate knob to full power. "Are you warm enough?"

She nodded. He looked behind her to the other side of the small counter where it turned into an L-shape.

"Not that I mind, Orihime," he said, stepping around the counter to collect the wooden stool from the other side, "because I like your legs _a lot_," said, kissing her cheek as he set the stool beside the sink, "but you're going to freeze if you don't wear something more than those skirts. I've seen girls wear pants here."

He patted the stool top and she hopped onto it, wrapping her skirt around her legs better.

"I wear pants, too," she said, pulling the material over her shins as he looked into the pot simmering angrily just under a boil on the hot plate. She sat straighter to see the pot's contents. "That's warm enough for me, Renji. Do you like cocoa?"

"Never had it." _But how hard could it be?_ he thought. According to Rangiku it was just powder and water or milk. She'd divulged that much when she'd answered his question about the beverage. It didn't sound like something that needed directions. He found two mugs in the shelf overhead and opened the cocoa canister, scooping several large spoonfuls into each mug before adding the hot water.

"Your report to Captain Kurotsuchi," he said, not wanting to delve into the subject as much as he wanted answers, "how complete did you make it?"

She didn't vacillate. "Everything I could remember."

He stirred the cups until the liquids inside were a dark color. Satisfied, he handed her one, liking the soft fingers that brushed his as she put both hands around the cup.

"Thanks. Ooh, it smells extra rich." She blew gently on the dark cocoa, smiling at him after a moment. "You have hot cocoa mix, but you've never had it before?"

He grinned. "Yup." He leaned on the sink next to her, watching her socked feet anchor over the stool's side braces. "That Fourth Seat from Twelfth tonight said you have resurrecting powers. Is that true?"

She nodded slowly, lips barely touching the edge of the cup before the hot steam changed her mind about attempting a drink. "I have before, at peak power in Hueco Mundo, but I think I've lost it, Renji. I couldn't revive that shinigami a month ago."

For a moment he could do little else but stare at her in disbelief at the scope of her powers, until he lowered his mug to the counter, watching her take a test sip of the cocoa.

"You can bring back the _dead_, Orihime?"

She made a wrinkled face at the cocoa's taste, but then quickly smiled, swallowing with a short cough. "I did once. I couldn't do it the last time I attempted it, at Urahara-san's shop."

"But you have before? Who?"

This time her look of discomfort was from memories. "Loly and Menoly. After Grimmjow killed them when they were tearing up my room in Hueco Mundo."

Renji had read parts of that report. He knew she meant when the Arrancars were beating her half to death, not simply destroying her room. He'd concentrated more on those details than some of the others in the report. "Who told you to? Grimmjow?"

She shook her head, taking another sip of the drink with less of a facial contortion this time. "No one told me to. I couldn't just leave them ripped apart like that, Renji. It was horrible. I thought Loly was still alive when I went to heal her, but she was dead, too. Menoly," she shuddered, holding the cup tighter, eyes dropping to it, "I knew she was dead. The way they were screaming, Renji, it was awful. Loly just whimpered toward the end, mostly. But Menoly had these blood-curdling screams until she was ... just in pieces. I just wanted to change the way they looked, it was so gruesome. I didn't think it would actually resurrect them." Her voice hardened, as did her expression when she looked back to him. "Maybe I shouldn't have."

He wished he hadn't mentioned it, wished he'd left it for another time. He stepped closer, taking the mug from her and setting it and his on the counter to wrap his arms around her shoulders, bringing her face closer, feeling her knees move to either side to allow him nearer, one foot going to the lowest stool front brace. "I shouldn't have asked," he murmured, kissing her lips lightly, tasting a hint of the thickness of cocoa, noticing the stool put her a little higher than when she was standing on her feet. "Have you told Urahara about that ability?"

She frowned at him, eyes drifting from his to the tattoos showing at the edge his white head rag as she thought about her answer before her gaze drifted down to his eyes again. "No. Should I?"

He wasn't sure. He felt her arms settle around his waist, her expectant expression awaiting his answer. "Not yet. If he's so intent on finding out about your healing abilities, he'll discover it, in time." He let one hand slide beneath her soft hair, watching her slight smile change to one of content. "No sense in telling him about something you can't do right now anyway."

She nodded, her elbows resting at his hips as one of his hands dropped to her knee where she'd fallen in the alley. She looked down at the contact, his fingers pushing the skirt back just enough to see the faded red scrapes.

"Much better," he said, pulling the material back over her healing knee. He took a deep breath and reached around her for her cup of cocoa, trying to ignore her hair snugged beneath his neck, her face turning to follow him.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the mug and took a step to the sink, leaning his back to it as he looked at his own drink. She tentatively took a longer sip, watching him sample the cocoa.

Renji stopped midway through the drink, eyes shooting to her as he resisted spitting the liquid back in the cup. He forced himself to swallow as she broke into a sudden giggle that nearly knocked her off the stool.

He glared down at the offending beverage. "Ugh, how can you drink this, Orihime? I thought it was supposed to taste good."

He set the cup on the counter and looked to her as she put a hand over her mouth against her laugh. "What the hell's so good about cocoa? This stuff's bitter."

She climbed off the stool and set her cup on the counter beside his, looking more closely at the cocoa canister, turning it to see the front. "This is baking cocoa, Renji, not cocoa mix with sugar in it." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "That's why it's bitter."

"You weren't going to tell me?" He pulled her closer and gave her a hard kiss, then let it ease into a gentler touch.

"I didn't want to be rude," she said, breaking the endearment reluctantly, hands on his arms, sliding up his skin to where the black tattoos began just under the gray t-shirt sleeve edges, her fingers resting between the designs. "I've got to go home and start on schoolwork."

"I know." He nodded, glancing past her at the early evening falling outside the window near the staircase. "I should be backing up Twelfth. Tanaka-san's got my whole day planned tomorrow. Stuff to get out of the way in case I have to go back to Soul Society before the next long gigai test."

She frowned, pulling from him as his arms dropped from around her and he dumped their cocoas down the sink, running the cold water until the thick brown was gone. "Will you be around Saturday?"

She followed him to where her coat was on the futon and he made an effort at helping her into it, which proved more awkward than actual help.

"I think so, but I'll have to check with Captain Kuchiki to know for certain." He watched her pull hair from the hooded back of the coat and stoop to put on her boots. "I'll be there to see your entry if I can. Excited about competing?"

She nodded, smiling brightly as she stood up, but her voice lacking the same enthusiasm. "There's so much to do yet, and with exams next week I don't know if we'll be ready for both."

"You'll do fine."

They walked to the door and opened it to find the drizzle had increased to a sprinkle. Renji grabbed his pullover from the peg on the back of the door and donned it.

"Are you sure you need to go home now? It's a cold rain, Orihime," he said leadingly, surprise evident on her face until she realized he was half joking, when a mischievous light hinted in her eyes.

She stepped out onto the small landing, inhaling the wet air as she looked up at the darkening heavens. "I could do with some cold water right now."

Renji followed her out, pulling the door shut behind them as her words sunk in. "Hey," he said as she made her way down the staircase, her hand on the damp banister, "how'd you mean that?"

She didn't answer, instead giggling, her steps quickening as she descended into the dusk. "Hurry, Renji!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone reading and those who reviewed._


	18. Death God

Renji found Urahara squatting in the storage room where he'd last seen the dismembered female Arrancars a few hours ago. It hadn't been his choice to meet with the shopkeeper so soon again, but when he'd returned from walking Orihime home in the increasingly cold rain he'd been flagged down across the fence by Tessai.

The dark hoodie pullover was heavy with rain, making Renji want to go back to his own small apartment rather than engage the shopkeeper that night, but he looked in the shop's back room, expecting to see the man knee deep in body parts, grinning happily. But he wasn't.

Urahara was alone, kneeling at the dark smears of fluid with a reed that he was dragging through the thick, drying ooze. He looked over his shoulder at the shinigami, eyes shadowed by his hat. "Come on in, Renji, and mind where you step. It's all that's left."

The still tone of the man's voice made Renji wary as he entered the room, particularly when he saw the half-formed footprints in some of the blood, small prints left by small female feet, leading away from the larger stain where the bodies of Loly and Menoly had lain.

"Scraping up test samples off the floor doesn't seem very scientific," Renji said, crouching to where the shopkeeper squatted. "Aren't you going to get a lot of contaminated material?"

"Got no choice in the matter now, since my test subjects are gone," Urahara said in an uncharacteristic grumble. He pulled a glass tube from his coat pocket and carefully inserted the reed into it.

Renji's eyes went back to the footprints, much of which were maligned within each other, making them impossible to tell sets from one another. "How?"

"They walked off," Urahara said tightly, standing with his sample. "Got up and walked off, Renji. Put _themselves_ back together, too, I suppose."

Renji didn't like the emphasis in the man's voice. "Maybe they did. Are you sure that's what happened? How do you know Ukaru didn't take them back for Captain Kurotsuchi?"

Urahara looked miffed. "Because our deal was that I get first topical observation and preliminary tests before any specimens are taken back to Soul Society."

"You think Ukaru isn't above sneaking out with a body if he wanted to?" He stood up and looked around the room, finding nothing amiss or out of the ordinary in the clutter of crates, boxes, and bags. "You know he likes to brag. Maybe he took them back as souvenirs."

"He had express orders to leave any bodies with me until I release them," Urahara said, pouting at the vial in his hand before looking at Renji. "They _did_ walk off, lieutenant, and I know who has the capabilities to enable _that_."

For a moment Renji returned Urahara's stare, knowing full well Orihime's abilities were no longer a secret to the former captain. "You better clarify yourself, Urahara."

The other man shrugged, taking his vial and going out into the hall with Renji following. "Ukaru blabbed away what Mayuri's been keeping from me. I don't know why he hasn't been up-front about it. Professional jealousy, I suppose," Urahara mumbled as they stopped at the door to his makeshift office. "You knew, too, didn't you, Abarai?"

"Knew what?"

"That she can resurrect the dead," Urahara said slowly. "Some dead, anyway. Arrancar dead, but not shinigami dead, it seems."

"That's why you tested her with that corpse from Thirteenth Division." Renji took a step toward the shopkeeper, who clutched his vial sample possessively and backed up a step.

"No, I didn't know then, not until tonight."

"Same as me," Renji said, deciding the admission wasn't nearly as damaging to Orihime as the missing Arrancar were. "She can't revive anymore, Urahara. For all she knows it was a one-time thing, or maybe it's an Arrancar thing. Ever think of that? You're so anxious to think she's got something to do with these," he gestured to the vial, "these enemy agents that you're leaping to all sorts of bullshit. Like trying to suggest she had latent Arrancar tendencies. I never heard so much cock-eyed BS before."

"You ever hear of blindspots in the memory? Missing time? Dreamlike states where a mind can't tell real from illusion?" Urahara shook his head as Renji's eyes narrowed on him. "She may not be aware of what she's doing one-hundred percent of the time."

"I just left her apartment fifteen minutes ago, and unless she's developed some form of human shunpo, she can't have gotten here before me," he said thickly, jabbing a finger into the shopkeeper's chest. "And she wouldn't do it; she regrets reviving them the first time -- didn't even know she could."

Urahara looked down as Renji removed the last stab of a finger. "She told you that?"

He nodded.

"Recently?"

"Tonight, and she probably would've told you if you'd ask her instead of being all sneaky." Renji's scowl increased. "You knew tonight before she left; why didn't you ask then?"

Urahara shrugged without conviction. "It's a school night, I figured she had studying." His face crooked into a grin. "But if I'd known you were taking her back to your place I would've asked."

Renji had a good mind to pin the man to the door frame. "Got Jinta spying?"

"Of course not, Renji, but you did take the alley gate, and Miss Yoruichi was digging a hole in the back." This time he chuckled at what would have been a lethal joke had the woman in topic had been present. "Hell, she'd bury me if she heard that one. Just a joke. Lighten up, lieutenant. All I'm saying is that being able to resurrect the dead kind of makes Miss Inoue the ultimate death god, and that kind of power won't be relinquished by Aizen so easily."

"I don't think he knows about it," Renji said, suddenly wanting to get out of the shop, back on the streets, anywhere but in the presence of the scientist-inventor. "From what I figure, Aizen doesn't know about Loly and Menoly being revived. Only Grimmjow was there."

Urahara nodded slowly. "The three Arrancars that are in the Living world now. Wonder if that means something."

"Whatever it means," Renji said, his voice dropping, "it's not any sort of complicity. You can forget that bullshit."

"You don't know what kind of arrangements she's made with whom, here or in Hueco Mundo, Abarai," Urahara said as Renji turned back down the hall. "Hey, you've got a check-up in the morning on the seventy-two hour, so don't be --"

"I can't recommend it," Renji threw over his shoulder as he stormed down the corridor, mind reeling at consequences of the missing Arrancars and its impact on Orihime.

"What?" Urahara's curiosity picked up. "Why not?"

"Too hard to get out of when you need to," Renji said as he reached the back door, "clouds too much spiritual presence. Captain Kuchiki expressly forbids Rukia to use one; only the older model for her, Urahara."

The shopkeeper sighed as Renji pushed open the back door. "Don't forget tomorrow's check-up!"

* * *

Renji spent the next day scouring Karakura Town for signs of the female Arrancars, but found none except for a Twelfth Division probationary carrying her partner back to Urahara's shop, the corpse draped in white robes, and with a story about the brief, eerie battle with the small Arrancars. Renji had helped her deliver the larger shinigami before heading back out in a vain search for the vagabond members of Aizen's one-time army.

He never encountered them, not personally, but he did see the former Espada Six leaving an alley, which when Renji got there contained two dead shinigamis, both with chest wounds and leaking reiatsu. The spiritual power emanating from Grimmjow's retreating form was high, much higher than when Renji had first encountered him at the alley when he'd dropped Orihime.

Nor was Grimmjow interested in a fight. That much was becoming clear, and Renji knew it was only a matter of time before the Espada was at full power again, making him much more a danger to everything in the Living world, but primarily to a few. At the Espada's full power the battle grounds would be nearly level with Renji's gentei reiin in place.

By the time he'd taken the two shinigamis to Urahara's shop, explained what little he knew of their demise, and returned to where he'd last seen Grimmjow, the Espada was long gone.

* * *

Gone until Orihime was walking home with Tatsuki after school Friday afternoon. It was a rare day of no practice for Tatsuki until the next day, during which a full ten hours of intense instruction was scheduled, and Orihime's invitation to dinner was more attractive than usual.

"I never see you anymore except for in class," Tatsuki said as they lagged behind most of the student traffic on the sidewalk, both book bags heavily laden with exam study work. "I wish I could see your showing tomorrow. I know you'll do well. Ishida-san is a perfectionist, and I know you've been working your fingers into knots with the beading." She nudged Orihime in the ribs, a knowing grin on her face. "Something's been keeping you occupied, 'Hime. Maybe I should say _someone_."

Orihime blushed a little, wrapping her arms tighter over her coat, now with the sheepskin lining, against the brisk breeze that cut through the sunny streets. She smiled and pushed her hair over one shoulder as a gust of wind slapped it across her face. "I've seen you walking home with Yuki-kun. It looked like more than sympathy over a broken nose from a spar. That's not like you, Tatsuki."

The darker haired girl shrugged, eyes lighting a little at the mention of the fellow student. "He's okay."

"Hmm, just okay?"

Tatsuki returned Orihime's inquiring look. "What about you? You practically don't even look at Ichigo anymore." For a moment she thought she'd gone too far in the mention, but Orihime just smiled and sighed. "I mean, not like you used to."

"Was I the only one blind to what a fool I was being?"

"You weren't a fool, 'Hime," Tatsuki said as they turned a corner of the sidewalk to the next residential block where Orihime's apartment building came into view. "Ichigo's kind of dense like that. He doesn't mean to be; he's so busy acting tough he can't see some things, but I think he's getting a little more clued-in."

Orihime sighed, a leftover reaction from other memories. "He really likes Rukia-kun. They're good together," she added after a short hesitation.

Tatsuki nodded slowly. "I guess." They walked the next block without speaking, both in separate thoughts until Tatsuki commented again. "This Renji, he's good to you?"

Orihime nodded. "Funny how you can know someone's around but never really get to know them, and when you do it's like you've known more about them for a lot longer. You know what I mean?"

Tatsuki made a wrinkled face. "Not when you say it like that, Orihime. But, yeah, I guess." She smiled a little more.

"You're thinking of Yuki-kun," Orihime guess as a rare blush caught her friend. "I knew it! It's more than karate practice, isn't it?"

When Tatsuki didn't answer immediately, Orihime jostled her arm in vigorous encouragement, nearly unsettling her book bag from her shoulder.

"Ooh, I wish I'd paid more attention to him," Orihime said with a squeal as Tatsuki hitched up her bag strap better. "Is he nice? Nice to you?" A sudden chill along her spine made her hug her coat closer, eyes snapping to the sky overhead, gaze searching the rooftops. But the chill remained only slight, not increasing as other times, and she blamed it on the weather and looked back to Tatsuki's slight confusion. "Tell me everything about him."

Tatsuki smiled wider. "Not much to tell right now. Not really. We just talked some, and we might do something after the tournament."

"Something?" Orihime stopped and made her friend turn to face her. "What kind of something? How long has this been going on?"

Tatsuki rolled her eyes and pulled Orihime back into motion down the sidewalk. "Out for hot chocolate, or coffee, or something like that. Geez, Orihime."

"Oh." Orihime nodded, mind slowing a little in its race to conclusions. "That's good, too." She glanced behind her on impulse, and this time the chill in her back made sense.

From the nearest rooftop Grimmjow crouched, watching her and Tatsuki, his silhouette but a shadow outline against the cold, sunny skies, but recognizable to the frightened girl below. Orihime's steps slowed, and then she gripped Tatsuki's elbow, thoughts becoming a flurry as to her course of action even as Grimmjow stood and turned.

Orihime glanced in the direction he faced. Two shinigami raced from the building farther on, neither familiar to her, but enough to send Grimmjow into gear. In a flash he disappeared into the horizon beyond, the black-robed figures in pursuit.

She let out a long breath she'd been holding, fingers relaxing slightly on Tatsuki's arm_. He's getting faster_, she thought as she turned to look at Tatsuki. _I couldn't feel the cold as much this time, not like the other times_. She shuddered, not with cold, but with the fear of being unable to sense the Espada's nearness so easily.

"... a ghost or something," Tatsuki was saying as Orihime looked to her. Tatsuki leaned closer to her. "Hey, _did_ you see one?"

Orihime shook her head, mind flitting between thoughts of being less than truthful with her friend and what seemed to be a fading sensory ability. "After the War, did you feel your spiritual powers slipping, once you didn't use them as much?"

Tatsuki managed to look guiltier than Orihime felt. She nodded as they crossed at the street curb to the next sidewalk. "A lot. Everything's gone back to being kind of blurry. It was like all my practice was just _whooshed_ out. Gone once I thought I didn't need it anymore. How about you?"

Orihime nodded just a little.

They'd barely gotten into Orihime's apartment and unloaded their book bags at the futon than a knock came to the door and Orihime sprang to answer it. She unlocked it and opened the door wide, bringing a bigger grin from Renji.

"Hi!" she greeted, pulling his arm when he didn't move fast enough to enter.

"Hi, Orihime," he said as she closed the door, planting a brief kiss on her cheek before he realized Tatsuki was standing in the kitchenette, watching with unmasked surprise. Renji's arm tightened on the kotatsu motor under his arm as he nodded to her. "Hey, Tatsuki. How're you?"

"Good. You?"

"Good."

Tatsuki looked from him to Orihime and then cleared her throat. "Uh, I'm going to ... go ... brush my hair," she said rather lamely, out of desperation. "Back in a minute."

Tatsuki disappeared into the bathroom before Orihime could speak.

Renji frowned and looked to Orihime as they went to the kotatsu table at the futon and knelt there. "I don't think she likes me."

"Of course she does," Orihime said, scooting back a bit on her knees as he set the table top against the futon and tilted the table frame onto its side. On impulse she put a hand to his side as he held the frame up, letting her hand slide to his shoulder. "What's not to like?"

He shifted a side glance at her, grinning as she withdrew her hand. "I missed you yesterday." He fumbled in the sweatshirt pullover's front pocket for a screwdriver. "I tried to get over here, but Tanaka-san had a list. A damn _list_, can you believe it? In order of importance and everything. She's going away for the weekend to see a grandchild born and she's all fired up."

Orihime bobbed a nod, watching as he fit the new motor into the framework's housing. "Must be baby season."

"Must be."

Renji set the new motor into the designated frame and attached the first screw into the brace and wood. "Have you heard anything of the Arrancars at Urahara's shop?"

By the tone of his voice, Orihime knew there was news she didn't know. "No. What happened? Did their signatures match the samples Urahara-san already had?"

He shook his head, unwilling to impart the new situation. "They're gone. Up and walked out."

This time the shudder that went through Orihime was more violent, making her knee flinch away from his as she knelt. "_Gone_?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "How?" Her hand clutched his arm, nearly knocking the screw out of the brace he was attaching. "They were dead, Renji."

"They were very dead, Orihime," he corrected, setting the screwdriver down and glancing to the closed bathroom door. He looked back to her, hating the worry leasing her eyes. "It just means someone's got tricks we don't know about."

"But they were dead," she said slowly, her face taking on the same ill look as it had when he'd told her her signature had been found with Grimmjow's on the corpses.

Renji slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer as she fathomed the news, his other hand wiping the auburn hair from her eyes. "I wanted you to know, Orihime. So far it just means they're back on the streets." He left out that the new casualties that had been drained of reiatsu, hating to even rush the news. He'd meant to tell her under other circumstances, but Mrs. Tanaka had planned his afternoon already. He kissed her lips gently, and then more fully when her arms came around his waist and held him closer.

There was a squeak of the bathroom door, and then another squeak as it closed. Orihime and Renji both glanced that way, and Renji released her and turned back to the table.

"Nervous about tomorrow?"

She nodded, leaning closer to watch him insert the next screw and drive it into the frame with a few twists of the screwdriver. "There's going to be over fifty entries. Ishida-kun is getting more nervous."

"Did you finish your beading?"

She nodded again, handing him the next screw when he finished the last. "It's all done, but we'll have to steam it once we get there to take out any wrinkles from the drive over."

"I'll try to be there," he said, attaching the last screw. "I should be able to finish most of Tanaka-san's list tonight. How about exams? Got a lot of studying this weekend?"

"Yes."

"No time for me?"

She smiled and kissed his neck quickly as he righted the table. "I've got time. Can you stay for dinner?"

He found the electrical cord end. "I've got Tanaka-san's list to finish tonight."

"Maybe later?"

He looked over at her at the words spoken softly, liking the hopefulness in her face. "I really need to take care of that list, Orihime."

She nodded as he plugged in the cord at the wall outlet.

"But I plan on kidnapping you for a while at some point this weekend," he added as she watched the table.

"Okay," she said with a giggle. "Or maybe I'll kidnap you, Renji."

He knelt beside her again, watching the table for signs of smoke. "That could work, too."

As the motor heated slowly, he took her arm and pushed up the long uniform sweater sleeve to see the fading bruises. "Much better."

Orihime looked down at his hand gently drew across the marks. "I saw him today, Renji."

His hand tightened for a few seconds, and then pulled down her sleeve, nodding. "I heard he passed through this area. Did he follow you from school?"

"I don't know. I felt cold, and when I looked behind me he was on the roof of a building." She sighed. "It wasn't as cold as the other times. I wasn't even sure if it was anything at all. Not like the other times."

He frowned, unsure what the change meant, if anything. He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "I already got the report. Two from Twelfth ran him off, but never caught up with him."

"He's getting faster."

He watched her put a hand to the top pad of the table, seeing a smile cross her face.

"It's getting warm." She looked to him, eyes resting on his neck where a black mark was visible above the pullover collar. "Are you sure about dinner?"

He nodded slowly, and then kissed her, sighing. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded as the bathroom door tentatively squeaked open again. "Okay."

* * *

He'd meant it when he said it, had every intention of attending the showing of the Handcrafts Club's dress entry that Saturday, but Captain Kuchiki had other plans after the seventy-two hour gigai test. It left Renji in a lurch, finagling Jinta into a few chores and forcing a promise out of Urahara about whom the shopkeeper had labeled the ultimate death god.

The night was still and dark, the clear skies admitting a sharp crispness to the air as Renji pressed his back to the edge of the outside of the window he knew to be Orihime's bedroom. He regretted not taking her up on dinner, of not lingering a little longer when she'd asked him to despite Tatsuki's presence.

He watched the streets below for a moment, seeing little foot traffic, before his eyes rose to the rooftop of the building opposite the street. No sign of an elusive Espada or the puzzling Arrancars.

_Maybe it wasn't too late to just say goodbye_, he thought for the fourth time that half hour. It was only proper. There was nothing proper about looking in a girl's bedroom window at midnight, he rationalized, even if he was several stories up.

A noise at the window made him look over, and Renji was surprised to see Orihime lifting the window to wave him over.

"I thought it was you," she said as he entered the dark bedroom, the only light coming from the half moon in the clear skies. She crossed her arms over the black t-shirt he'd lent her, shivering slightly in the cool air invading the warmer room.

"You shouldn't be hanging out the window, Orihime," he said, pulling the window pane shut. In the dark her hair was only a nondescript brown, slightly tousled from where she'd been in bed already, dressed in only the shirt and a baggy pair of dark pajama bottoms.

"Are you on duty tonight?" she asked, her voice low against the music from the next apartment.

"No. I've been called back to Soul Society," he said, stepping closer as she tightened her arms over her chest.

"Now? Tonight?"

"Captain Kuchiki's orders," he said, folding her into his arms to stop her shaking. She uncrossed her arms to settle them around his waist, pressing herself to his chest, pausing only for a second when she recalled she was braless, and then settling against him fully.

"Will you be gone long, Renji?"

He wrapped his arms around her in a stronger embrace, looking down at her face pale in the moonlight, her hands rubbing the small of his back increasingly higher to his shoulder blades. "I don't know. I won't be back for your showing tomorrow, I know that, Orihime."

She sighed, nodding and resting her head against his chest, inhaling the slightly musky scent she'd learned to associate with him. "Soon? Next week?"

His fingers slid beneath her hair, soft tendrils falling over his hand as his arms tightened more around her, sorting through what he knew would only be hopes and perhaps empty promises. "I don't know. I don't know what Captain Kuchiki's got in store when I get back. Could be a few days."

She nodded, head bumping just under his chin, bringing the smell of peaches stronger. She took a deep breath, content to remain against him for a long moment, feeling his heartbeat strongly, realizing how much she didn't want him to leave. She finally looked up at him, the dark depths of his eyes lost in the filtered light of the sheer curtains.

"Good luck tomorrow," he said, his voice low.

She smiled at the rumble it made against her chest pressed to his. "Thanks."

"They've dispatched four more from Twelfth Division, so don't worry too much about Grimmjow or the Arrancars," he said, kissing her lips slowly. "Ichigo's around, too," he added reluctantly.

She nodded, kissing one edge of his mouth for a long moment before moving to a more firm contact at his lips. She remained there, feeling his arms crush her to him for several long moments before he let her ease away a few inches, the short space warm between them. She sighed and stepped back, reluctantly pulling her arms from him.

"Hurry back, Renji."

He nodded, one hand drawing across the bottom hem of her t-shirt until it was aligned below her navel, tugging gently as her fingers dropped to his. "I like what you've done with the shirt," he said with a grin as her head dipped with a bashful smile.

She looked back to him after a moment. "I like it."

"Keep it." He kissed her lips lightly, and then turned back to the window and lifted the pane. "Go on back to bed, I'll shut this."

She nodded, but remained at the window as he left, watching him close the glass and hover outside long enough for a final wave.

She stepped back from the window, letting the sheer curtains fall around her, watching as he disappeared into the night.

She pulled her arms over her chest again, missing his warmth already, and wishing she'd convinced him to stay, even for a brief while.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed._


	19. Stand Down

Renji's mood didn't improve as he made his way through the chill Seireitei streets to the vice captains' meeting three days later. Captain Kuchiki's insistent orders that he attend the meeting weren't what Renji deemed to be of an utmost importance, not when there was a highly placed Arrancar roaming Karakura Town. Certainly not enough to require his return to Soul Society before beginning the month-long gigai test.

He pushed through the door to the officers' hall and followed the corridors leading to the lieutenants' meeting room at the far end, sounds of male laughter mingling with a few female tones growing louder as he walked. Marechiyo Omaeda's grumbling chuckle was loudest, offset by Rangiku's giggle.

A hand clapped over Renji's shoulder from behind, breaking his thoughts from what he was thinking of as a slight injustice at being yanked away from the Living World for what amounted to a nominal meeting since the War had ended.

Shuuhei chuckled at Renji's start, falling into step at his side as they took the next corridor. "Lost in thought, Renji?"

He shrugged. "A little." He glanced at the file under the other vice captain's arm. "What are you doing here? I thought you were sitting in at the captains' meetings."

Shuuhei sighed, frowning at the double duty. "I am, but I'm supposed to attend these, too. Kind of tiresome, and nothing's happening. Not like it was before the War." He raised an eyebrow. "Except for in the Living World. Twelfth's been full of speculation about Grimmjow and some Arrancar females."

Renji's interest pricked at the mention and he made Shuuhei halt as they neared the last few doors to the meeting room. "What kind of speculation? What have you heard?"

Shuuhei shrugged as they both sent a glance down to the open doorway where Rangiku was chastising someone. "Most of what I heard was from Captain Kurotsuchi, so I'm not at liberty to spill it all, but there's been talk of further examination of the Inoue girl."

Renji's head snapped around before he could stop himself, a movement that made Shuuhei grin and nod.

"That's what I thought. Hey, it's no secret, Renji," Shuuhei said as the red-haired man gave him a pointed look. "Reports from Twelfth say you're always around when Grimmjow's near the girl, so it's known."

Renji nodded and eyed the doorway a few feet away as Yachiru's high-pitched squeak was drowned out by a low masculine growl. "There's nothing in Soul Society rules strictly forbidding fraternizing with the Living. It happens."

Shuuhei's grin broadened. "I don't blame you. She's a cute girl, and a tough one."

Renji cleared his throat, steering past the curious look on the other vice captain's face. "Besides, she's been targeted by Grimmjow and no one in Soul Society seems to think it's worth sending anyone but guinea pigs from Research to look into it."

Shuuhei nodded in agreement as they entered the meeting room where a familiar tone was bellowing. "Speak of the devil now."

The long table was crowded with mostly empty chairs, the majority of the vice captains having found other excuses to ignore the meeting, as was becoming the norm over the last few months in the post-War atmosphere. Renji took a chair by Izuru Kira, who looked exceptionally greener than usual. Renji looked to Rangiku, whom he held responsible for most of the Third Division lieutenant's ill demeanor, surprised to see her present. She was on the other side of the table, smiling as she chatted with Nanao Ise.

The few others present consisted of Yachiru Kusajishi, Omaeda, and Isane Kotetsu, the smallest form already gorging herself from the platter of apricot cookies in the center of the table beside the pots of tea. Renji leaned back in the chair, eyes resting on the lone figure that didn't belong at the table of vice captains.

Ukaru sat across the table, his attention on Rangiku's bosom as she sat at the corner near him, the pleasant look on his face a mixture of smugness and leering appreciation. The meeting was called to order by Nanao, who made a brief apology for the absent lieutenants before launching into the usual preliminary business that was rote memorization by now for most of them. Ukaru listened carefully, dividing his attentions between Nanao's mind-numbing account and Rangiku's chest, his posture erect with momentary importance.

Nanao turned to look at him as the rest of the vice captains followed her gaze. "Today we have a special report from Twelfth Division's Fourth Seat Ukaru, who is sitting-in for Nemu for the meeting." She sat down and folded her arms before her on the table, eyes sharp behind her glasses at the large man. "You have the floor, Ukaru."

The lower ranked officer got to his feet, sending a slight nod in all directions around the table, recognizing the less than welcome looks on most faces. "You're all aware Twelfth Division's been assigned Karakura Town, and that there's been sightings of an Espada and a few female Arrancars that were reported dead during the War."

"They _were_ dead," Izuru reminded, taking a moment to collect himself for a sour look at the man who'd only heard of the War and never been on the battlefield. "You're the new man here, Ukaru; no one else."

Renji sat forward, resting his elbows on the table before him. "We don't need an introduction to Grimmjow, Ukaru. Everyone here knows who he is. Get on with whatever you've got to say."

Ukaru frowned at the eyes on him, confidence slipping as even Yachiru gave him an impatient look. He put his hands on his hips, chest jutting out in determination at his moment in the spotlight. "Dead or not, the bratty bitches are walking around Karakura Town with the Living, and have the ability to revive, apparently spontaneously, and without aid. Captain Kurotsuchi has given orders that anyone detaining one of them is to turn them over to Twelfth Division for further analysis."

Shuuhei sat back in his chair and hooked one arm around the back of it, shrugging. "Your squad is assigned the town, Ukaru. If anyone comes across Grimmjow or the Arrancars, it's probably going to be one of your own."

Ukaru deflated somewhat. "I was asked to give a report, Hisagi. That's it. Captain Kurotsuchi wants a full medical and technical examination of anyone injured by the Hollows, despite their ranking." His eyes went to Isane as she began to speak. "Technical examination at Twelfth Division is to trump any medical exam."

"Out of the question," Isane piped up, rising to her feet, her height bringing her eyelevel with the officer. "Captain Unohana has standing seniority on any injuries in the Living World." She looked around the table. "Medical exam first."

Ukaru made a growling sound, eyes darting between the unsympathetic faces around the table. "Not for Twelfth."

"I take orders from Captain Hitsugaya," Rangiku said, lifting an eyebrow at the lower ranked officer. "You can't make an appeal to us without going through our captains first. _Any_ seated officer knows that."

Ukaru looked from her to Nanao's prim frown to Renji's caustic stare. "You've been there, Abarai. You know those bitch girls were dead. You know the importance of studying anything related to them."

Renji nodded slowly. "I know Twelfth Division's got more research material than _you_ probably know about, Ukaru. Your people aren't getting the job done. Grimmjow's at low power right now, and all Twelve is doing is collecting more parts for the lab. Stop posturing with the Arrancars and take the bastard out."

Ukaru's hands had balled into fists and he placed them on the table before him, bringing a wide-eyed giggle from Yachiru, who was hoping for some sort of altercation to accompany her cookies. "You've been there longer than anyone from Twelfth. What's stopping _you_ from putting him down?"

Renji sat straighter, holding the man's glare. "Overstep _your_ territory? If anyone else was in charge of your sections we'd have swept up that pile of Arrancars and they wouldn't have come back." He stood up, leaning over the table as most of the other lieutenants watched in confusion. "You're sending poorly equipped probationaries into a shark tank and they're coming back as research material. Don't ask anyone here to crawl under the microscope for you."

All eyes remained on Ukaru, who sent a narrow glance around the table. "The bastard would've been destroyed long ago if he'd be willing to fight against any worthy opponent, not just the weaker ones."

Shuuhei frowned at him suspiciously. "Running away wasn't among of his battle tactics."

"It is now," Renji agreed, rather reluctantly, not wanting to aid Ukaru, but willing to clear the air on the matter. "It's not like him, but he stands down every time there's the slightest chance he'll lose."

Shuuhei and Izuru looked to him, the latter's surprise evident on his slack face.

"There've been enough casualties coming in from the Living World to know he's picking his fights carefully," Isane said, now seated beside Nanao, watching Yachiru take another cookie from the platter. "Why isn't he being disposed of now?"

Attention went to Ukaru, who'd sat down and now drummed his fingers on the table, his moment in the light fading. As he began to speak, Shuuhei took up the conversation.

"As dangerous as Grimmjow was at one time, he's less a threat than he was," the acting captain said. "If he's split from Aizen's command, then he's just a loose cannon that'll get taken down as soon as," he paused, looking to Ukaru before choosing his next words, "enough data has been collected."

Isane sat back in her chair, crossing her arms as she shook her head.

"Captain Kurotsuchi is requesting the Gotei 13 to turn over any Arrancar casualties to him, no matter who gets to them first," Ukaru said, eyes pinpointing Renji as the others shrugged noncommittally.

"When I get a direct order from my Captain," Rangiku said, pouring herself the last of the tea before tossing him a longsuffering look, "then I'll leave them at your company's gates."

Izuru put a hand up to second her statement.

"If Vice Captain Kurotsuchi made the request, you'd all be more than happy to assist," Ukaru said tightly, glaring around at them.

"You're not Nemu," Isane reminded.

Renji looked around the table as smaller side conversations broke out among a few. _Anyone of them could take the former Espada in a fight now and win_, he knew, _except perhaps Yachiru_, he thought, watching her reach for another cookie. Barring Grimmjow's eradication was Twelfth Division and its Captain's interference with research.

_But not for much longer_, he added to that thought as he saw the Eleventh Division's vice captain pocketing a few cookies. The Espada may well be on par with his former self.

He flexed his fingers along his leg, the moments he spent in Soul Society as three entities progressed their own agendas in Karakura Town wearing on him, eager to return to the Living World for several reasons.

* * *

Dusk settled in the narrow alley along the back streets of Karakura Town as Menoly slowly roused from her death. Her third death that day, she recalled. Maybe even the fourth. They were beginning to blur across her memory. Spontaneous resurrection was not without its drawbacks.

She licked her dry lips, rising onto an elbow on the dusty alley pavement, her vision fuzzy as she looked to the crumpled form of Loly an arm's length away. She coughed, thoughts flooding back to her as she pulled her knees under her, the early October air cool on the back of legs as her skirt settled higher over her thighs.

Damn Grimmjow, she thought bitterly, coughing more forcefully as the fluid in her lungs stole her breath. Just because she could resurrect from the dead didn't mean there weren't lingering side-effects from being slung into a brick wall until dead.

"Are you ready to talk yet?"

Menoly's eyes shot to where Grimmjow sat on a crate against one of the alley building walls, leaning on his elbows on his knees, looking more impatient than she recalled seeing him the last few times she'd revived.

She sat back on her legs and pulled her skirt over her knees, hands shaky in weakness. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, tasting blood, most of it dried on her lips.

Grimmjow gave her a tolerant scowl. "Are you ready to work with me?"

She looked to Loly's still form, taking a deep breath that rattled against her chest. "What the hell do you want, Grimmjow? Are you bored? Envious?" She pushed her short hair from her face, smearing blood from the corner of her mouth. She looked at the dark red and wiped it on her torn skirt. "Amusing yourself?"

He stood up, his clothes luminously white in the falling dark of the alley where few sounds of the night street traffic ventured. He watched her recoil as he stepped nearer, her hand reaching instinctively for her fallen comrade, tugging Loly closer by a limp wrist.

He stopped a few feet away, hand on the hilt of his katana as he surveyed their injured forms. "Are you ready to make a deal?"

Menoly struggled to the wall behind her, dragging Loly with her, the girl still unmoving. "What do you want?"

He looked from the dead form to her. "She's wasting her time pursuing Aizen's affections. He has none for her."

Menoly frowned, defensiveness creeping over her despite the validity of his statement. "I know that. Who cares? It's her ambition. It keeps her going. Let her have it."

"What's your ambition?"

She shuddered to even think it, not when he was standing there before her ready to render her dead again so easily. "I want back in the Realm."

He shrugged, glancing to the alleyway opening as laughter drifted down it before a few figures passed by on the sidewalk. He looked back down as Loly caught a shallow breath. His eyes rose to Menoly as she pulled Loly closer.

"Keep her away from the Inoue girl. I'm not done with her yet and I don't want her killed," he said. "Understand?"

Menoly would've laughed if she had the strength, but instead she screwed up her face in disbelief. "That's her goal, you brute; to take down the wretched girl."

His eyes narrowed on her, making her press her back to the wall tighter, the desire to laugh vanishing from within her. "I don't care if you pursuit her. Hunt her down all you want to, but don't damage her." He nodded at Loly. "Keep her from the Inoue girl and I'll leave off repeatedly killing you."

The graveness in his face made Menoly tremble. She new he was serious; he'd been proving it all afternoon. It was one thing to wake up from the dead in the storage room of that wacky shinigami shopkeeper and stumble out unnoticed, but to be killed time and time again as Grimmjow waited out her revival –- that was too much.

His fingers wrapped around the sword hilt, his head cocked to one side awaiting her answer. "Will you keep her in line?"

It was sheer her pride that answered. "What do I get in return?"

He chuckled. "I won't keep killing you, fool."

She was in no position to argue and she knew it. "I'll do it."

He nodded. "Don't fail."

* * *

Night had fully fallen amid the light rain and fog as Renji alighted to the rooftop of a building six blocks from Orihime's apartment structure. The past week had been one of the longest in a while for him, and Captain Kuchiki's final permission for the month of leave to the Living World was welcome.

He was even more eager for the visit when he spied a figure in white leave an alley a block ahead of him in the night. For a few moments Renji watched Grimmjow leap from the alley building to the next before giving chase.

It was a short run of leaps through the various heights of the building rooftops, until Grimmjow reached a four story warehouse and stopped. He pivoted as Renji dropped down behind him on the wet roofing in the growing fog that was descending on the town.

Renji grinned at Grimmjow's evident reluctance, pulling Zabimaru from his scabbard, muscles tensing as the Espada reached for his own sword.

"Let's go, ex Number Six," Renji said, stepping toward him. "Enough bullshitting around with the pups from Twelfth."

Grimmjow refused to pull his sword, but his hand itched to do so, remaining on the hilt. He stepped back as Renji advanced on the rooftop. "I've no fight with you, shinigami."

"Oh, but you _do_," Renji insisted, the sword hilt twisting in his grip. "Draw your sword!"

Rain fell heavier around them in the thickening fog of the lower buildings rooftop, making it dance with large drops as Grimmjow steeled himself into shaking his head in negation. "Another time, shinigami."

Renji wanted to rush the man despite his refusal to draw his sword. "Is that something new Aizen taught his few remaining Arrancar? Playing for mercy? Or has he kicked you out because you're defective?"

Grimmjow bristled, hand snatching the sword from its scabbard in a flash of movement. "I don't need Aizen to teach me anything." He held the sword to one side and circled to his left, watching Renji follow his movements. "I don't need mercy."

"That's why you keep running away every time anyone except one of the pups confronts you?"

Grimmjow gritted his teeth and lunged at him, a wide swipe of the blade making Renji leap back and follow with a quick return, Zabimaru's blade tip slicing open his white shirt at the waist, bringing a look of surprise to the Espada's face. Renji moved in again, Zabimaru's commands begging to be voiced.

For a moment Renji beat him back, Grimmjow blocking more than attacking, making Renji wonder why the Espada was willing to remain surface bound and still unwilling to fight.

"Enough with the child's play!" Renji shouted at him above the sound of the rain. His blade cut through the dark in a backhand slash that sliced off the Espada's arm, severing it cleanly.

"Ughh!" A bellow went up from Grimmjow, his right hand still tight on his sword as his eyes went to the detached arm as it dropped onto the wet roof.

For a moment he and Renji both looked at the stump of an arm that ended below Grimmjow's left elbow at the torn sleeve. Surprise eclipsed Grimmjow's face as he glared at Renji for a moment, teeth clenched.

To Renji's horror, the Espada shook his shortened arm, and to both their shock, the arm rematerialized within seconds.

Grimmjow looked at it with astonishment, turned the arm over, flexing the hand and fingers testily. He glanced back to Renji who still watched in amazement, and then threw his head back and howled in maniacal laughter.

"Ha! Let's see you do _that_, shinigami!"

Renji's eyes remained transfixed on the new appendage as Grimmjow smiled jubilantly at him, sheathing his sword in new confidence.

"Another time, shinigami!"

With that Grimmjow leapt away to the next building and bounded off into the foggy night. Renji didn't follow, thoughts swirling through his head at the sudden regeneration that had required no assistance.

"Damn bastard," he muttered, his hair soaking the back of his neck as he looked into the thick darkness in the direction Grimmjow had disappeared. He closed the few steps to the detached arm and watched as it turned a charred black, as if incinerated from the inside out. It shrunk to a thin brittle form of skeletal bone, and before his eyes disintegrated in the rain.

Too late he thought to try collecting a sample of the black residue that was diluting in the pooling water and running into different directions on the roof. He used the tip of his sword blade to flick a piece of watery black, scowling at the dissolving mess.

"Damn bastard," he mumbled again. It was small consolation that Grimmjow was just as surprised as he was about the regeneration.

Thoughts of Orihime returned to Renji's mind, but this time they were more than the silken hair and large hazel eyes that softened when she looked at him lately.

He took a deep breath and made his way to Urahara's shop. Maybe it was time to let the shopkeeper diagnose exactly what set Orihime's healing powers apart.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. Rating will change with the next chapter._


	20. Honeysuckle

Orihime hurried up the back stairs to Renji's apartment the next day, the chill air nipping at her despite the bright sun overhead and her coat. Her steps were quiet on the staircase, not wanting to alert Mrs. Tanaka. Not that she didn't want to talk to the elderly woman, but she'd been caught once already that week on Renji's stair landing and found herself scrambling for an excuse to be there.

Not that she felt guilty, but Renji hadn't returned from Soul Society yet, and she didn't think loitering around the apartment door would hit the landlady as appropriate.

She paused at the turn of the stairs to the landing, waving at Ururu in the Urahara shop's backyard, broom in the girl's hand. Ururu returned the wave, and Orihime moved to the apartment door.

She was about to knock when a movement at the next apartment unit's small balcony caught her eye. The next landing over was draped with a tangle of dormant wisteria vines, most of the dried leaves already on the ground, the mass of twisting branches tightly woven among the lattice blocking most of her view.

But what she could see of the figure bent over at the side of the small washer/dryer units made her smile and move to the balcony rail for a better look. Renji was leaned over the ductwork of the dryer, red hair barely visible over the back of his black pullover as he stuck an arm up the air vent of the dryer, muttering lowly at the machine.

Orihime leaned on the rail, forearms resting on the support as she watched the angle of his neck where it met the pullover, the black tattoos barely visible from her distance, trailing down to the dark material.

She'd never seen them, not more than his shirt collar allowed, but she'd heard rumors of the marks. Not so much rumors, she thought again, just casual references from Rangiku and Rukia and a few off-color comments from Ichigo. It made her curious.

"Hi!" she called. When he turned to look at her, she waved, smiling.

He grinned and waved back, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Hey! When did you get here?"

"Just now." Her fingers tightened on the rail. "Are you back to stay?"

"For a while." He glanced at the dryer and then back to her. "I'll be right there. Go on in."

She nodded, watching him turn and kneel at the machine again. "Are you staying for the month-long testing?"

"Yup." He worked for a moment longer on the ductwork, finally pulling out a bundle of leaves and scrap material constituting a squirrel's nest from the opening.

He stood and looked at her as he started on the staircase down. "Go ahead on in, Orihime."

"I'll wait," she said, watching him descend the switchback of stairs. "Rukia said you might be back today."

Renji reached the bottom of the staircase and crossed to the stairs leading to his own apartment. "When did you see her?"

"Yesterday. I invited her and Kurosaki-kun and Sado-kun over to watch Tatsuki's tournament this afternoon." She watched him climb the stairs through the steps below, moving to the back rail. "I invited Ishida-kun, too, but he said no. His father had something for him to do."

He met her at the top of the stairs, nodding to the door. "You can go in, Orihime. It's not locked."

Her smile widened. "Can you come over this afternoon? We'll have snacks."

"Sounds like you've got a houseful already." He watched the slight breeze lift her hair that hung over the fur collar of the coat. "Chad, too?"

She nodded. "Please come over."

He stepped closer and kissed her lightly. "Come on. I'll get cleaned up and then take you out for lunch."

She followed him into the apartment, the warmth inside welcome after the brisk late morning walk through town. "I have to go back. Rukia and the rest will be there shortly."

He watched her slip off her shoes, but keep her coat. "So soon?" He waved her farther into the apartment as he disappeared into his bedroom. "No time for lunch?"

"Not really." She took a few steps into the main room, following his voice to where the room split off to the bathroom and bedroom. "You'll come over, Renji?"

"Sure." He reappeared from the doorless room in a clean t-shirt and pulled her closer, arms slipping inside her open coat to settle around her waist until she was locked against him. "How were your school exams?"

She nodded, arms encircling his neck with little reservation. "We haven't got our final marks yet, but I think I did okay."

"Good." He kissed her lightly, and then more thoroughly when her lips met his with unexpected enthusiasm, surprising her a little. She withdrew a few inches, cheeks coloring.

"A whole month," she said, a small smile replacing her blush, fingers toying with the few strands of red hair that had caught them, gaze drifting to the black marks at his neck. "You'll come over soon?"

He nodded, slowly releasing her and taking her hand, pulling her into the kitchen area. "You've got time for cocoa, right? I've got the real stuff this time."

She hugged her coat closer as he took a container of cocoa mix from the overhead cupboard. "I should head back now."

He nodded, setting the mix on the counter, and reaching for her hand to pull her closer, unwilling to break the mood with his next question.

She frowned at the somber look slipping over his face.

"Have you seen Grimmjow or those Arrancar girls lately?" he asked, hand tightening on hers.

Most of her smile fell away, watching a thicker darkness hint his brown eyes. "Two days ago I saw Grimmjow. It completely surprised me, Renji. I didn't feel cold at all, and I didn't even have a good coat on. Just a big sweater. Not like the other times."

He nodded, his thumb rubbing over the back of her soft hand, her fingers curling over his. "We need to talk to Urahara about a few things."

She frowned, looking to each of his eyes at the solemn tone of his voice. "Did you see Grimmjow?"

He nodded. "Last night. He's not interested in fighting. Not yet. But he's getting stronger. You can sense it now, not like it was a few weeks ago where his spiritual pressure was down."

"He's absorbing it from the shinigami he's killed," she said slowly, lower lip caught in her teeth. "Then why can't I sense him anymore?"

He shook his head, pushing her hair over her shoulder with his hand, watching her troubled eyes cloud. "When you healed his arm," he said, not wanting to broach the subject, "did you do anything different than usual? Anything more?"

"More?" Now her eyes opened wide, her head shaking in adamant negation. "No, Renji. Just heal it. Well, restore it."

He nodded slowly. "You didn't -- hell, I don't know -- impart anything different or special on him?"

"No. No." Her neck stiffened beneath his hand there. "Why?"

She listened as he told her of his encounter with Grimmjow the previous night. He didn't like the way the light drain from her face as she realized the imprecations of her healing abilities on the Espada. She nodded slowly as he finished, numbness overcoming her senses.

But she was very aware of Renji pulling her into his arms, of the warm strong embrace that she'd missed over the last week, a powerful hold that evicted memories of her time before Aizen as she restored Grimmjow's arm.

She sighed, smiling at the familiar sent of aftershave he wore, her face nestled against his bent neck as her arms instinctively surrounded his waist. For a moment she stayed there, content until she felt guilty.

"We'll talk to Urahara and get some answers next week," he said, his voice a rumble against her chest. "He's out of town tomorrow, but we'll go Monday or Tuesday. Maybe there was some other alteration on Grimmjow, something by the Szayel scientist. He might have performed something on him after you restored the arm."

She nodded, feeling his hand slide beneath her hair, gentle on her neck, hoping he was right. She sighed again and leaned away. "I have to get back. Can you come over now?"

* * *

By the time Orihime and Renji got to her apartment Chad was already there waiting in the hall with an armful of groceries consisting mostly of bags of chips. He nodded when he saw them, appearing larger than usual in his bulky layers of sweater and pullover.

"Hey, Renji. You're in town?" the Mexican boy wondered as Orihime unlocked the apartment door.

"Yeah, for a while."

Chad looked to the next apartment where the pop music was to be heard. "Ichigo and Rukia-chan will be here soon. I saw them at the store getting soda and crackers."

"Oh, good," Orihime said as she pushed to door open. "I think we're set on everything else." She stepped to the side as Renji and Chad entered. "Make yourselves at home. I'll start the chili."

Both Renji and Chad looked at each other as she glanced at the kitchen.

She saw the exchange. "It's my aunt's recipe from the Internet," she explained, taking their pullovers as they shed them. "Not my own creation."

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine, even if it was your recipe, Orihime-chan," Chad said as she took their outer wear into her bedroom.

She returned almost immediately and took the bag from Chad. "Thanks for bringing the chips, Sado-kun. If you want to find the tournament on television, go ahead. I'll bring in sodas."

Chad headed for the small television set as Renji followed Orihime into the kitchenette. She lifted the lid of the large pot on the stove, a warm hearty smell blooming out that made Renji realize how hungry he was. He looked in the pot as she stirred it with a large spoon.

"That's chili?"

She nodded, stirring up the bits of ground meat from the bottom. "It was hot before I left for your place so it won't take long to heat through again." She looked up and him, guilt hinting her voice. "I guess I didn't really follow my aunt's recipe. I forgot the beans and used potatoes instead. More like stew. I don't think it'll be too spicy; I've got hot sauce for anyone who wants to add it." She glanced to Chad who was moving the antennae around for better reception. She looked back to the pot and stirred slowly. "I'm glad you're back, Renji."

"Me, too." He slipped his arm loosely around her waist, kissing her hair quickly. "How long do you have off for school?"

"The week. Can you come over for dinner tomorrow?"

He chuckled, hand tightening on her hip momentarily. "I've got another list from Tanaka-san."

"She sure keeps you busy."

"Earning my keep, Orihime."

She nodded, looking to him hopefully, smiling more when his fingers slipped beneath her knit shirt to her jeans waistband, resting on a belt loop. "Maybe?"

"If I skip out early today and get the pipes insulated in the basement, sure," he said with a nod, eyes resting on her lips. "I forgot to ask. How'd the dress showing go?"

A wider smile stretched across her face, eyes widening as her hand clutched his shirt. "We got second place in two categories! Complexity of style and general appeal."

"That's great. Hell, that's really great." He gave her smile a swift kiss as someone knocked on the hall door. "I know you put a lot work into it. I'll bet Ishida's happy."

"He wanted first in complexity of style, but I think he's okay with it." She wiped her hands on a dish towel. "I think that's Kurosaki-kun and Rukia."

"Finish your stew. I'll get the door."

"Thanks."

Renji went to the door, opening it as Ichigo was getting ready to knock again, Rukia beside him with her arms around a large bowl of animal crackers. She smiled when she saw Renji, but shoved past him to make a beeline for the kitchen. "Hey, Renji."

"Hello," he called as she walked out of her shoes and tossed him a wave. He looked to Ichigo. "Come on in. Orihime's in the kitchen."

Ichigo carried a few packs of soda, which had gotten slightly shaken on the way over. "Hey, you're here already?" He shook his head, eyeing Renji. "Hat-n-Clogs got you running tests?"

"Yeah, long one this time."

They moved further into the room and Ichigo called a greeting to Orihime, who returned a '_Hello'_ before turning her attention back to the stove and Rukia. He collapsed onto the couch at one end and watched Chad finish angling the antennae. "Tessai said Grimmjow's got new abilities."

Renji nodded, taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch as Rukia returned and grabbed the packs of soda Ichigo had left at the side of the couch. She went back into the kitchen with them. "Not good news, Ichigo. Can't hardly get the bastard to draw a sword to fight and now this?" He shook his head. "Spontaneous regeneration, and quick, too."

Ichigo glanced into the kitchen as a giggle broke out among the girls' hushed whispering. "I don't believe it's anything she's done. She'd never do something like that. Not knowingly."

Renji leaned his elbows on his knees and watched Orihime nod at the bowl of crackers Rukia showed her. "It might be Szayel's work. Tweaking something in the healing process. Or maybe it's just in the Arrancar spiritual make-up."

Ichigo nodded. "That's some scary shit, Renji."

Chad joined them with the chair from Orihime's desk and turned it backwards at one end of the couch. He straddled it and sat down, large arms crossed over the top of the back. "Why isn't Soul Society doing more?"

Renji shook his head, eyes on the television where a commercial for noodles was showing. "Twelfth Division has the town right now and Captain Kurotsuchi's more interested in research."

Ichigo made a growling sigh, moving his legs as Rukia stepped over them and sat beside him, handing him a glass of soda. "They need to stop jerking around and put an end to the Arrancars, too."

"Loly and Menoly are small potatoes compared to Grimmjow," Chad said as Orihime joined them with three glasses of soda and wedged herself between Rukia and Renji. She handed Renji a glass and extended one to Chad before taking a drink of her own. "But they should be swatted down, too."

Renji rested an arm across the back of the couch to give Orihime more room, fingers draped over her shoulder. "We'll find them." He glanced to Rukia on the other side of Orihime. "Is that one of the old model gigais?"

She nodded, slurping her soda. "My brother insisted."

"Good."

The movement hadn't escaped Ichigo and he looked from Renji's hand past Rukia and Orihime to the red-haired shinigami. He glanced down at Rukia but got no help as she was intent on her soda.

All eyes remained on the television set as the first round of matches began at the Tokyo Dome. Over the first hour it was a process of elimination, followed by another round of style exhibitions from each of the teams, and then another elimination round. Orihime and her guests spent the time watching and eating in several stages, with Chad dousing his chili stew with liberal amounts of hot sauce.

Orihime and Rukia settled on their knees before the couch when Orihime's tendencies to act out punch moves she thought the competitors should have used in their matches proved damaging to those around her, elbowing Renji once and Rukia twice. The bowl of iced animal crackers sat between the girls as the tournament went into its fourth round of matches and they decided to take the few moments to grab a refill of drinks for everyone. Ichigo's narrow glance went to the red-haired man across the couch.

Renji watched the girls go into the kitchen, Orihime's taller form stooped to one side to hear Rukia's low voice as she giggled over something. He looked back to the television, and then to Ichigo, who was watching with a strange scowling engrossment on his face.

Ichigo looked into the kitchen and slowly to Renji as Chad's attention stayed on the television commercial for cell phones. "I know what you're doing," he told Renji, one hand tightening into a fist unconsciously, releasing gradually.

Renji read the look crossing the temporary shinigami's face. "You got a problem with something?"

Ichigo frowned deeper as Chad looked between them. Renji waited for Ichigo to wrap his mind around the obvious. He'd been wondering when the moment would eventually come, or if Ichigo would even notice.

Ichigo turned on the couch to face him better. "If you hurt her, Abarai, I swear I'll kill you."

Chad's eyes opened uncharacteristically wide at the statement.

"That goes both ways." Renji leaned back on the couch, shrugging. "I like her, strawberry. Get used to it."

Ichigo's confusion shifted as he sent another longer look into the kitchen, returning Rukia and Orihime's quick waves as they refilled a bowl of potato chips. He looked back to Renji. "Is that why you volunteered to bring her back from Las Noches when she disappeared?"

Renji cocked his arm over the back of the couch to see the girls in the kitchen better. "I barely knew her then, Ichigo. Think about it."

Ichigo did. "So this is all recent?"

The protective layer that Renji had for so long reserved for Rukia surfaced in another direction. "A while now. You better get used to it." He didn't say what he wanted to; if Ichigo was too clueless to figure out Orihime's attentions over the last year, then he wasn't about to bring them to light now. Not now. "You can save your threats for something else."

Chad's rapt attention was on Renji now, his usual lax demeanor more alert. "You're serious?"

Renji snapped an irritated look between the Mexican and strawberry. "What the hell is this? A tribunal? I like her. What of it?"

Chad's large shoulders heaved a shrug and he looked back to the television.

Ichigo nodded, scowl lessening a degree. "Okay."

"I don't need your _okay_," Renji told him.

"I know it." Ichigo rubbed the back of his head, making the hair stand up in spiky tufts. "Just a surprise, that's all." His attention strayed back to the kitchen for a long moment before his eyes locked on the next round of matches beginning on the television. "She seems happy. Even with Grimmjow hanging around... I didn't know it was ..." He shook his head, not wanting to finish the thought aloud. "I didn't know. It's good, I guess."

Renji decided not to remark on Ichigo's rambling internalization that had become commentary. He looked back to the kitchen as Orihime and Rukia balanced glasses of soda and snacks as they rejoined them in the main room. He saw her eyes flit to Ichigo, something less than lingering in them as she gave him a quick smile before offering Chad and himself their drinks.

He knew what it was. He still sometimes felt that ingrained print of emotions that sprung up on occasion, the ones that were etched somewhere in his brain's hardwiring when he looked at Rukia, and try as he might, a small inkling still remained out of sheer habit.

That was all it was. Habit.

It never grew into anything lately, he pacified himself as guilt raised its ugly head when Orihime sat down beside him and settled closer under his arm across the back of the couch. He'd managed to get through the withdrawal of sentiments that had once been compulsory. He watched her eyes as she looked at the television now showing the tournament and the end of Tatsuki's set as the referee raised the girl's hand overhead in victory, her smile obvious even when hampered by her helmet and mouth guard.

Orihime wasn't thinking of Ichigo, he told himself, and if she was, or if she did occasionally, it wasn't the same as it had been.

But he couldn't blame her much if she did. At her age a year was half a lifetime.

** ** **

Renji hadn't stayed for the completion of the tournament, leaving before it ended so he could make progress on Mrs. Tanaka's list of chores, but he took Orihime up on her invite for dinner Sunday afternoon.

The day had turned overcast and thick with heavy clouds that dumped rain on him as soon as he left the block Urahara's shop was on. It was a cold rain, but had no wind behind it. By the time he got to Orihime's apartment that smelled faintly of Obaachan's bread baking his pullover was wet, and not merely damp.

"Do you want a towel?" Orihime asked as she took the pullover from him and headed to the bathroom with it. "Is you shirt too wet? I have the one you lent me."

"No, nothing like that," he said, pulling at the black t-shirt he wore. "I'm dry enough."

She reappeared with a hand towel. "You sure? Your headband's soaked."

On second thought he took it towel. "Thanks." He stripped off the wet white cloth and dried his forehead and hair. "How'd Tatsuki finish yesterday?"

"Second overall in class and first in girls." She nodded quickly, smiling at her friend's accomplishment as she took the headband. "She comes home tomorrow, after all the ceremonies today and the farewell dinner."

"Good for her." He finished wiping his hair, seeing her eyes rest on his forehead. "Uh, I can put the headband back on if you want me to."

Her eyes moved over the black marks stretching back into his hair, stepping closer, reaching to touch one. "I've never seen them before. They're the same on both sides? All of them?"

He nodded as her fingers traced one of the black jags to where it ended. "They better be."

Her eyes followed the marks down to his eyes, hand dropping to his neck along the tattoos there. "Don't they hurt?"

"Not anymore; just when you get them." He leaned down and kissed her, finding the scent of honeysuckle and something slightly fruity. Her arms latched around his neck tighter as he pulled her closer, lips soft on his for a moment before she grabbed his hand at her waist and pulled him into the kitchen. "Hungry?"

"Yup."

She brought him to the stove where a saucepan was simmering a thin white liquid. "It's crab in vanilla soup with cucumbers." She gave him a slight smile. "Not spicy. Rukia said you don't like spicy stuff."

"You two spilling everyone's secrets?" he asked, tugging at the back of her loose hair.

She shook her head, a mischievous glint to her eyes. "Just a few. She said yesterday that you didn't like super spicy foods." She turned off the burner heat and found bowls in the overhead cupboard, the hem of her gray skirt with the purple flowers lifting to the back of her knees where her thick peach socks had sagged a little at her calves. "Do you want coconut flakes on yours?"

Renji's eyes rose from her legs as she turned. "On the soup?"

She nodded. "It's good that way."

"Sure." He glanced to the wall she shared to the next apartment where the pop music was lower than usual. "Your neighbor get complaints?"

"No; he's gone for a few days, I think. He leaves the radio on low for company for his cockatiel."

They watched the early evening newscast over a dinner of the crab soup and sesame muffins, Orihime turning up the volume when a short segment came on about the martial arts tournaments at the Tokyo Dome over the weekend, mentioning Tatsuki's name. A brief glimpse of the dark-haired girl was flashed on the screen when she stood in line with her fellow winners, her face shining with excitement and exertion.

Orihime sighed, grinning back at her friend on the television. "She'll be so happy. She's trained so hard for weeks, Renji."

He nodded at the television. "What about your wins? Did your club get a ribbon or anything for the dress show?"

"We got a huge rosette ribbon to hang at the display case at school. Oh, I've got pictures." She picked up their empty dishes and bowls and stacked them carefully as she stood. "Ishida-kun dropped them off earlier today. I'll get them."

He pushed the kotatsu table that was still minus the fabric covering to one side where she usually kept it and stacked the cushions by it. "Who took the pictures?"

"Oh, they had a photographer from a Tokyo newspaper there covering the show and they sent copies to all the winning clubs."

He sat against the couch behind them as she lowered the volume on the television that had moved on to other news. She sat beside him, curling her legs to one side so her knees rested at his thigh, the photos in her hands as she leaned close enough for him to see them.

"We had a set-back as soon as we got there and we were almost disqualified during the initial judging because we had to repair the trim work," she said, holding one of the pictures closer. "The hem got caught in the door of Hitomi-kun's mother's van and it crushed a few strands of fringe."

Renji held the photo closer. In it Orihime was seated on her knees at one side of the curtained walls of a large showroom, hunkered over the hem of the purple and blue dress that another girl held, her hands carefully reworking the beaded fringe. "You had to mend it while you were there?"

She nodded, sighing. "Ishida-kun was livid. His face was almost purple." She handed him another photo. "This is all the dresses lined up."

She showed him the six photos in turn, explaining each and emphasizing their toughest competitors. He nodded, examining them and going back to the second where Orihime was standing beside their entry with the award rosette, smiling back at the camera. It was similar to another where she was standing on the opposite side of the dress, still smiling.

He held the photo to his side where the lamp at the couch end was brighter despite its muted setting. "Very pretty, Orihime," he said, grinning back at her smile in the photo. "Can I keep this for a while?"

She nodded, pink tinting her cheeks. "You can have it."

"Thanks." He set the photo behind him as she turned to do the same with the other pictures. For a moment they remained facing each other, neither moving as his hand found hers on the couch. He bent one knee and rested his other elbow on it, his hand pushing her hair over her shoulder. "Did you have your picture in the newspaper?"

She nodded. "Our whole club with the dress. It came out last week." Her free hand hooked under his arm where the lowest points of tattoo crossed his arm at the sleeve edge. "I put it in my scrapbook."

"Show me later?"

She nodded as he pulled her closer, her hand leaving his arm and wrapping around his back. He kissed her lips as they parted slightly in reception, her shyness gone from a month ago, eagerness replacing the tentativeness. She let herself fold against him as his hand slid from her neck to her lower back, encircling her waist to pull her snuggly against him.

She slipped her socked foot over his leg, her knee nudging a tender spot on him. He ended the kiss quickly as she jerked her leg back.

"I'm sorry," she said, cheeks flushing at what amounted to a knee to the groin.

"Come here," he said, sitting back, his hand pulling behind her knee until she leaned up and sat over him, this time with just as much blush as the first time.

She settled her knee at his side, smiling amid the blush at the new position that brought her hips to his, easing down astride him. "I didn't mean to do that."

"I know." His arm went back around her waist, feeling the slight arch of her spine as her hands rested at his chest, eyes traveling his face as she leaned closer.

One hand slid up his chest, fingertips light on the tattoo at his neck, following it to where it disappeared around his neck. Her eyes flicked to his, appearing more smoky gray than hazel in the muted lighting. "Renji, when I get to Soul Society," she said in a concerned tone, "I mean, when I die, will I remember you there?"

He wanted to say yes, of course she would, but he shook his head. "Probably not." He pulled her closer and kissed the pout at her lips. "Why are you thinking about death?"

She let her lips remain against his in answer. "Because I'm not worried about it much." She kissed the corner of his mouth as his head dipped to follow hers. "Not like I used to be before everything happened when we kind of invaded Soul Society."

His hand slid beneath her hair, anchoring her close, eyes focusing on her distracted expression. "You _stormed_ Soul Society," he corrected, her breath fragrant from the coconut. "You know what's on the other side now, Orihime. Death isn't as big a mystery anymore."

She nodded, her hair gently bobbing against his forehead as the sound of the rain outside increased. "I guess. But I don't want to not know you there. I don't want to forget."

He let one hand slide along her leg to the scrunched up sock, fingers on her calf until she clenched the leg to him. "I'll make you remember."

She smiled. "How?"

"I'll figure out a way."

She nodded as his hand slipped off her sock, hard fingers closing around her ankle as she buried her feet beneath his knees. "I hope so."

He brushed her hair from her face, and then carefully unclipped one of the hairpins at the side of her head. Her hand went to his.

"I'm not going to hurt them, Orihime," he said, pulling the hair ornament free.

She watched him set it behind him on the couch. "I know you won't." Her eyes went to his hand going to her other temple, removing the flower pin there. "I've been neglecting them."

"They can wait a little longer for your attention." He set the second pin behind him and gathered a handful of auburn hair, letting it fall softly through his fingers.

"I think your hair is longer than mine," she said with a short giggle, reaching behind his head to the black hair tie holding his hair. "Can I?"

"Yup."

She pulled the hair tie out, her weight shifting forward, looking down at him with surprise, then her gaze went to her skirt against his jeans zipper. She set the hair tie beside her hair pins, eyes fastened on his as his hair fell.

Her hands lowered, one remaining at his chest, the other hesitantly dropping to his leg beside her thigh where she felt him move in response to her touch. Her eyes shot to his as a blush colored her cheeks, her hand drawing across the hardness developing against her leg.

For a moment he was still, watching her eyes lower to his jeans as she touched him, feeling the soles of her feet press against his legs as her hand pushed harder over him.

He cleared his throat, not really wanting to stop her, but finding it necessary to say something. "You keep doing that and I'll have to go out and stand in the rain, Orihime."

Her fingers didn't halt. "I don't want you to stand in the rain, Renji." She looked back to him, the pink still on her cheeks, then glanced to his hand slipping beneath her skirt, his other hand pressing at her back, bringing her face to his.

This time the kiss was more intense, his lips soft but more forceful as her arm rounded his shoulder, fingers clutching, pulling him closer, feeling the muscles tense.

The years of wielding Zabimaru had resulted in a tightly muscled physique, and Orihime was aware of this as she felt his back tighten beneath her arm around his shoulders, making her breath catch when he anchored her closer yet under another kiss that sent her pulse racing. His hand worked up the back of her leg, her silken skin warm as she pushed against him, his fingers slipping beneath the side of her panties, feeling her hip move closer in encouraging reply. Her hand found the clasp at his jeans fly opening, fingers hooked over the edge of the material.

He cupped his hand under the back of her head, making her look at him, feeling her heartbeat in her breast against his chest, her arm locked around his neck. He was still trying to think of exactly how to say what he thought he should say when a peal of thunder echoed through the apartment.

She looked to the window behind him, her breath halting for a moment as she looked back to him, moving so she was more centered over his erection. "Can you stay tonight, Renji?"

His hand gripped her hip harder at the words as she leaned her forehead to him, breath exhaling warm on his lips, hair falling against his cheek. He nodded, but said, "You sure that's what you want?" He ventured to inquire what he thought he knew to be true. "There's only one first time, Orihime."

She nodded, fingers tugging at the jean waistband, her other hand climbing the nape of his neck. "But not in here."

The rain was louder in her bedroom, competing with the low music from the apartment neighboring hers, the only light a filmy moonlight that peeked among the clouds and rain through the turned window blinds and sheer curtains.

Orihime had halted at the bed, a full size model that was about the same in dimensions as a folded out futon, facing Renji, her expectant heartbeat still fast when she put nervous hands to the button at the side of her waistband. She unfastened it and unzipped the short zipper, letting the skirt fall to the floor.

Renji's hands came to her hips, sliding over the roundness of them as her hands fumbled at his shirt, lifting the hem until he took his hands from her waist and pulled off his t-shirt.

"Oh, my . . . You really _do_ have a lot of tattoos, Renji," she said with a slight gasp, the black marks visible against the cut of his body even in the scant light. She put a hand to his chest, following the pattern of tattoos crossing his left pectoral, halting at the small flower that was misaligned above one. "This one's different."

His hand covered hers, his other hand back at her nearly bare hip as her fingers traced the camellia design on his chest. "That's not one of mine. It's a spiritual power limiter. All captains and lieutenants wear them in the Living World."

"I remember hearing something about that," she said, hand wandering down his chest to angle at the marks slanting along his abdomen. "I didn't realize you had so many."

"You still want to do this?" he asked as his arms drew her closer, hands beneath her pink shirt, feeling her spine flex as she nodded and let herself press to him.

"I'm sure."

He lowered his face to her neck, kissing the soft skin beneath her chin, lips moving to her throat as she leaned heavily against him, her hands sliding up his back. Her eyes closed at his touch, smiling faintly at his lips traveling to where her shirt collar stopped him.

He glanced at the bed, still taken aback at her suggestion to stay. She followed his gaze and stepped back to unhook her bra and work it loose. She blushed anew and turned her back on him, arms extending overhead as she discarded her shirt and bra with a flick to the side and folded back the bedclothes and crawled into the bed. She turned to face him and sat on her knees, nearly disappearing beneath the blanket as she waited, fingers pulling the material over her chest.

Renji unbuttoned his jeans, watching her timid smile as she pulled the blanket a little higher. "You're not going to hide, are you?"

She shook her head, freeing one hand to reach over to the night stand by the bed and turn down a small framed photo. She patted the mattress beside her, watching his pants fall. "Ooh, boxers?"

He left them on. "Surprised?"

"Not really."

He sat on the bed and slid beneath the blanket beside her, taking the thick rose colored material from her hands. "Are you cold?"

"No. Just nervous. A little."

He figured it was more than just a little. He eased the blanket down, the sparse moonlight shining pale on her full bare breasts, her hands clutched in her lap. The affects of her arousal were still with him and he pulled her closer, feeling a tremulous tension in her body as he let her rest against his chest, her legs to one side, making her hip meet at his elbow.

He put one hand to her cheek and kissed her lips for a long moment, her anxiety slipping as she relaxed in his arms, her body slowly yielding to his as her hands followed his chest to his neck, fingers working into his hair, curling against his scalp.

He lowered her into the pillow, one arm beneath her back, the other hand caressing slowly across her throat to her mouth, fingers drawing across her lips until she raised her head to kiss him, her arms coming tighter around his waist.

He rested on one elbow, his knee nudging between her legs, her skin smooth against his as she allowed him closer, one heel crossing over the back of his ankle when a soft sigh escaped her through the kiss as he forced her head into the pillow.

"Let's get these off," he said as his hand moved from her throat to her panties. It took a moment to strip her underclothing off, followed by his own, and then her last remaining, sagging sock. He maneuvered to lie fully between her legs, feeling her movements still stilted, her hands on his back uncertain.

He pushed her hair back from her face, the auburn tresses dark against the pale rose pillow, her eyes intent on his.

"I know it hurts at first," she said softly, her foot following his leg. "Can we get that part over quickly?"

He nodded, kissing her slowly. "We'll do that."

For a few moments she returned his kisses, her nervousness hindering until he kissed her throat, making a steady warm trail with his lips to between her breasts, his large hand covering one, a gentle kneading that brought an unexpected moan from her. She let her hands glide up his back, feeling him hard against her inner thigh as his hand moved from her breast to move smoothly along her concave stomach, roaming the soft skin that brought a shiver from her.

"You smell good, Orihime," he murmured, her fingernails traipsing across his shoulders.

She swallowed a sudden catch in her throat, feeling the muscles at his back tauten more as his hand caressed himself softly against her, bringing a sudden heightened response that made her forget what she was going to say. Every sense was on alert, following his hands, his lips on her flesh.

Her arms pulled at his back as she let her knees drop to either side of him, his hand working its way down to position himself against the hot, moist area within her, feeling the tip bring a quiver from her that made her arms draw him near as the sensitive skin of both of them beckoned. He kissed one of her ample breasts around the nipple, feeling her hand slip from his back to his hair, embedding among her fingers as she pulled his face to her.

"You've got the smoothest skin, Orihime," he said, lips trailing across her stomach where the scent of honeysuckle changed to something peachy.

She giggled a little as he kissed his way back to her neglected breast, a hot flush beginning across her skin. "That feels so nice, Renji."

Her other hand left his back, joining his hand along the hard length that was verging entry, her fingers stroking him slowly with increasing pressure before sliding to his scrotum, massaging gently, then moving to his lean hip.

His arm changed positions beneath her, crossing at her back so his fingers clasped over her opposite shoulder. Her legs had bent more as she followed his movements, his hard length rubbing inner sensations that made her hips lift to his.

"Ready?" he asked, voice husky as she nodded, her breath quickening as her legs wrapped around his back.

Her arms were tight around his back and shoulder, eyes closing at his kiss at her ear. He pushed into her in a sudden movement that made her gasp and hold him closer, her head buried at his collarbone, a tremble traveling through her entire body. He brushed her hair from her face, which was still buried against him, hearing her breath slowly return with a deep gulp of air.

The shooting pain inside her faded after a moment, all the while Renji's hand stroking her hair, his voice a soft murmur in her ear. She relaxed, easing her face from his chest, looking to him with a shaky exhale.

"All right?" he whispered as she licked her lips, nodding.

"We can do more now?" she said, taking a deeper breath.

"You bet," he said with a grin.

He kissed her mouth, pulling out slowly from her halfway as she held her breath, before pushing in again. After a few slower strokes she learned to move with him, a rhythm that gained in speed as she clung more to him, arms full around him as new sensations coursed her body. Her eyes half opened over his back, and then widened, bringing her face to his.

"You have tattoos on your back?"

He looked down at her amid the cascade of hair that was a mixture of his own and hers across her throat, nodding. "You didn't ... know that?"

"I think I knew ... you had some," she said in between thrusts of him into her. "I think ... I think I knew..." her voice tailed off, her breathing quickening as her hips raised to his. "I don't remember what I was saying, Renji."

He pushed harder as her arms pulled at his back, her eyes closing, fingernails digging into his skin among the tattoos. A quiver deep inside welled, at first making her movements slow until it took over her entire body, her arms and legs closing fiercely around him as the wave of bliss tightened around him within her.

She felt every muscle in his back tighten harder, a layer of sweat suddenly surfacing as he thrust deeper and faster in her, his name on her lips in soft pants at his neck until a throaty moan erupted from her as she felt every muscle in her seemingly contracted at once.

He finished hard in her smoothness, her body wet against his in heady intoxication. With a final pulse he was spent, lying on her in exhaustion as her hands slowly played along his back, a low giggle escaping her.

He propped on his elbows on either side of her, grinning at the smile on her lips as she took a deep breath against him, kissing her lower lip. "That better not be a laugh."

She giggled again, smile widening as he swept her hair from her damp face. "That felt good, Renji. Better than anything. Anything ever." She looked to each of his eyes, hands trailing the skin at his back as she sighed through her still racing heartbeat. "Better than sweet bean paste. Even a liter of it. And I really like sweet bean paste."

"So do I." He kissed her throat and pulled out of her, leaving a hot path where he'd been. "It did feel good. Damn good, Orihime."

He lay down next to her, then raised and pulled the tangle of sheet and blankets at their feet, settling the sheet higher over them. She pushed it to her waist, her breath still coming fast, breasts rising and falling, her body warm as he lay down beside her.

"It's too hot to cover up."

He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "You'll get chilled soon."

She lay in the crook of his arm, her senses still magnified as her breathing finally slowed a little. She turned to look at him, finding him watching her. Her face turned into his chest as she moved onto her side, one hand resting on his abdomen as she looked to the window that rattled under wind and rain. "I want to get better at it."

"Nothing wrong with how it went tonight, Orihime." His fingers trailed her shoulder as her hand moved higher on his chest.

She nodded with a smile, hair moving against his chest, the smell of honeysuckle and musk still in the air.

Renji pulled the sheet over them, this time getting no objection from her as her satisfied sigh brushed across his chest.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed._


	21. Strange Bedfellows

Renji awoke the next morning as the early light peeked timidly into the bedroom between the blinds. Even before opening his eyes he knew where he was.

_Don't let there be ponies_, he thought, opening his eyes to the dim light of Orihime's bedroom. He wasn't sure how a schoolgirl would decorate her room, but he didn't want to see ponies on the wall. Not after last night.

It wasn't ponies. He hadn't gotten a good look at much in the room the preceding night. He hadn't been aware of much except the girl in what was very much a woman's body against his.

He looked to where she lay at his side, her head over his arm as she nestled against him, her back pressed to his ribs, her breathing steady beneath the sheet and blanket. The contour of her bare shoulder was slightly turned from him as her arms were wrapped around his, pulling his forearm against her breasts beneath the bedclothes, her heartbeat a steady rhythm against his skin.

He put one hand to her shoulder, letting it follow the smooth skin to where it angled to her back, and then lower over the sheet that covered her hip. _The girl certainly has curves_, he thought, not the undeveloped, thin features of so many her age.

She sighed, smiling slightly as she opened her eyes to the tattooed arm beneath her chin. "Good morning, Renji."

"Morning." He kissed her shoulder that still smelled faintly of honeysuckle, pulling her closer when she half turned to face him. "Okay this morning?"

She nodded, settling onto her back to see him better. She wiped his hair back to his shoulder, smiling more. "You?"

He chuckled and lay back down. "Yeah, I'm okay."

She nodded and turned onto her hip, stretching one arm across his chest, eyes resting on the camellia tattoo. She smiled, thoughts of Tsubaki flitting through her mind. She looked up at Renji. "I'm glad you stayed. All night."

"Me, too." There was one thing that he recalled from the night that was still on his mind, other than the obvious moments. "You have a photo on your night stand."

She nodded, fingers tracing a black line of tattoo at his chest. "My brother, Sora."

It was a better answer than what he'd half expected from the question. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her leg drape over his at the knee, this time more cautiously. "What are your plans today?"

"Well ... not much." She sighed. "Tomorrow I'm going over to Tatsuki's."

"You want to talk with Urahara today if he's back?"

She raised her head to look at him, smiling as his hands pressed against her back beneath the blanket. Her eyes lowered to his lips before rising again to meet his, a slight hesitation as she spoke. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow then." His attention was on where her breasts disappeared against his chest, making a small blush surface on her cheeks.

"Are you hungry?" This time there was a sparkle to her eyes, her voice a higher tone as he looked to her face, one hand moving up her back to ruffle her soft hair into a more hopeless heap, making her giggle against him.

"I'm starving."

She nodded. "Good. Me, too."

* * *

An hour later Renji was standing at the corner of the apartment house nearest Urahara's shop with Mrs. Tanaka in the bright, wet morning. The short, round woman was breathing noisily, more labored than usual after the rainstorm from the night before. They both looked up at the eaves troughs heavy with water, the unlucky downspout bulging and threatening to split two feet from the ground.

"Something plugging it up," Mrs. Tanaka said, her voice raspy with bronchitis. "It's got to be fixed, Abarai-san. Basement's flooding."

Renji nodded, scowling at what was to be a two-fold problem for his day. "I'll take care of it."

"Basement needs pumping out."

He nodded again.

For a moment she gave him a suspicious look, her aged eyes seeming to pinpoint something amiss. "You weren't here at sunup this morning."

Her observation surprised him, but he tried to pass it off, instead running his hand up the thickest part of the downspout, feeling pressure tight from inside. "Were you looking for me?"

"Hmm, that's when the flooding got bad."

He felt higher along the drain tube, wishing she'd find somewhere else to go. "I think the plug is here. I'll take care of it."

She nodded, a rattling exhale following her as she turned and toddled to the back of the house as he knelt at the downspout.

Renji shook his head, not quite sure what to make of his landlady's comment, or whether to make anything of it at all. He loosened the section of tubing at a seam, a gush of water spurting from the crack, releasing a putrid smell over his hand until he managed to get out the way.

The water suddenly quit, seeping out only in a brownish stream that smelled worse. Against his better judgment, he stuck his hand up the tube, and then withdrew it with a jerk as a matted, saturated furred varmint was felt.

"Damn it," he muttered, shaking the tube as much as he dared. He glared at the thin stream of tinted water that trailed out of the tube end for a moment, and went to the shed in Mrs. Tanaka's backyard.

He'd worked for five minutes trying to dislodge what he imagined to be a dead and bloated animal from the vinyl tubing before he realized Jinta was sitting on the bamboo fence a few feet away, watching with more than the usual glint to his eyes.

"What do you want?" he grumbled at the boy, bending to work a pair of hedge clippers into the downspout.

Jinta's face crooked into a grin. "You're back."

Renji shot him a warning look. "What of it?"

"Just saying you're back," the boy said with a chuckle.

Renji straightened and looked at him. "What do you want, Jinta?"

"Run along, Jinta," Urahara said as he came up from behind Renji with a shopping bag in his hand. "You've got a floor to sweep."

Jinta mumbled something under his breath, but hopped off the fence onto the shop side.

Renji looked to the bag Urahara held, recognizing the name on it as one he'd seen down the street a few blocks. "Tessai letting you do the grocery shopping now?"

Urahara chuckled, watching as Renji worked free the downspout section and looked into it. "A little bit." He cleared his throat as Renji frowned into the plug in the drain tube. "Interesting evening you had last week."

Renji's attention shot to the shopkeeper, and Urahara continued hurriedly.

"That fight you had with Grimmjow. Taking off his arm and having it grow back," he clarified. He grinned. "That's what I was talking about, Renji."

Renji shook the tube, trying to free the dead animal inside. "I tried to save the liquid from the amputated arm, but it was raining too hard."

"Hmm, that would have been helpful." Urahara grimaced as the animal in the tube fell lower into the end of it. "I want to speak with her about it."

Renji nodded, throwing the man a frustrated look as a final shake of the tube section resulted in a wet, dead possum being deposited on the ground.

Both men stepped back at the smell.

"Damn critters," Renji mumbled, turning the animal over with the hedge clippers. "She wants to talk to you, too. She wants to strengthen her powers, but I think she should wait until this Grimmjow business is taken care of."

"I agree."

Renji looked up with surprise. "You do?"

Urahara nodded, eyes on the dark gray animal. "Much as I'd like to study her healing and other powers in detail," he said with a sigh, "I think her remaining more," he paused, searching for the less offensive word, "well, less valuable to Aizen or any of his minions right now would be advantageous."

"Grimmjow might not be with Aizen's army anymore."

"Aizen hasn't got an army anymore," Urahara said with a laugh. "He's got one Espada and a few Arrancars, if that, and maybe less. I'm not so sure Grimmjow is working as his agent anymore."

Renji frowned, the dead varmint half forgotten. "I know that's a possibility, but what the hell _exactly_ do you mean?"

Urahara's customary amusement wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Loly and Menoly have the ability to resurrect themselves," he said, his tone void of humor, "Grimmjow's demonstrated his own regeneration, something that -- according to what Tessai told me you said, Renji -- even Grimmjow seemed surprised to discover."

Renji nodded, eyes narrowing as he watched the shopkeeper. "You think Grimmjow's got his own agenda?"

Urahara sighed. "He hasn't killed her yet," he said indelicately. "He's had opportunities, and he passed on them. He needs something from her."

Renji didn't like where the conversation was heading. "Her healing him was a one-time thing --"

"Maybe, maybe not," Urahara said with a shrug. "Nothing in the Arrancar make-up would stop an Espada from obtaining resurrection abilities same as a lower ranking Arrancar. If Aizen doesn't know about that ability, all the better. But Grimmjow does. That kind of power is pretty much wasted on the likes of Loly and Menoly." He shook his head. "But to someone like Grimmjow, Renji, there'd be no stopping him."

Renji wanted to kick the dead possum against the apartment house at the analysis, but didn't, knowing it would mean another mess to clean up. "If those idiots from Twelfth had taken care of him instead of stacking corpses in your basement, this wouldn't be an issue," he bit out, lowering his tone as he saw Mrs. Tanaka look out the second story window at them. He turned his back to her, attention on Urahara. "Enough with the bullshit research, Hat-n-Clogs, this --"

"Research is over, lieutenant," Urahara told him in a deadly serious tone. "Mayuri has given me his word he's wrapping it up and sending real measures against Grimmjow and the Arrancar girls next week."

"Next week? That can be too late. I think Ichigo and I should --"

"Even I know the consequences of overstepping another squad's territory," Urahara said. "Running back-up is one thing; transgressing into Captain Kurotsuchi's designated territory is an affront you don't want to breach."

Renji shook his head. "If I have direct cause --"

"Oh, sure, direct cause, by all means," Urahara agreed, raising an eyebrow, "but don't go out of your way."

Renji decided against saying more, instead using the hedge clippers to impale the animal so he could transport it. "We'll see."

"But anyway," Urahara said, attempting to lighten the grim look on the shinigami's face, "I do want to speak with Miss Inoue. Tomorrow?"

Renji nodded. "I'll ask her."

"Oh, and, uh, about my earlier comments," the shopkeeper said, rubbing the back of his neck until his hat was askew, "about that ... Do I owe her an apology?"

Renji studied him. "Have you insulted her lately?"

Urahara's smile was both shifty and uncomfortable. "My earlier suspicions about her possessing latent Arrancar tendencies, it's still possible, but it's clearly not her work. Not like I thought. Loly and Menoly's abilities are self-contained, albeit initiated by Miss Orihime's healing abilities. It explains why her reiryoku was present with theirs, and with the sample from Grimmjow."

"I told you she'd never do anything to aid them." Renji turned to walk the dead animal back to the shed garbage bin.

"Well, there's been stranger bedfellows in times of war." Urahara followed, nodding and tipping his hat to Mrs. Tanaka in the window as he passed. "She already has aided them, Renji."

Renji threw him a dark look as he opened the metal bin's lid and let animal drop in, this time the off-color comment making him want to throttle the man. "Shut up, Urahara. Don't ever mention that again."

"Inadvertently," he said, his grin without humor. "I'm curious now if that regeneration extends to all healed injuries, or just to injuries of a restorative nature, or just to Hollow-based entities, like Arrancars."

Renji eyed the bag suspiciously. "Are you talking about Jidanbo's arm?"

Urahara nodded, delighted at the accurate guess. "Miss Yoruichi was kind enough to get me a tissue sample." He held up the bag. "A small sample, but still a sample."

Renji shook his head. "That's disgusting."

"Jidanbo was eager to help." He chuckled. "It helps that it was Miss Yoruichi doing the asking, too, I guess."

"You're not to ask Orihime for anything like that," Renji said, stepping nearer to the shopkeeper. "Don't even suggest it."

"Renji, I had no plans to." Urahara glanced to the shop fence and then back to the shinigami. "So, Abarai, do I owe Miss Inoue an apology?"

After a moment Renji fully understood what Urahara was alluding to. He shook his head. "I didn't tell her anything about your accusations."

"Suspicions only."

"Whatever the hell you want to call them, you were wrong." He shook his head. "I didn't tell her anything."

"Hmm, thanks for that, Renji. I'd hate to thin the ice further between us. I know she was miffed when I asked her not to help out in the War. As for our agreement," he said, "I can tell you I've not mentioned anything of it to Soul Society, and there's no point to now. Not that I can see. I'd look foolish." He allowed an uneasy laugh, rolling the edges of the bag down farther. "You'll bring her by tomorrow?"

"She's got plans with Tatsuki in the morning, but I'll see if she can make it in the afternoon." Renji's eyes rose from the bag to the shopkeeper's grin. "I'll let you know."

* * *

Orihime's morning the next day was spent at Tatsuki's house with Chizuru, both in awe of the medal and ribbon the girl had won. They watched the video of clips highlighting Tatsuki's team's performances, Orihime making her replay several parts where the dark-haired girl's performances were best. Much as she enjoyed watching Tatsuki's accomplishment, her thoughts were elsewhere, as they had been for the last thirty-six hours.

It was well past four o'clock, with early evening just on the horizon as she and Chizuru made their way down the Karakura streets to where the bespectacled girl lived. Orihime had lately spent less time with the clingy girl whose advances were less than welcome. Tatsuki had helped there during the visit, in more ways than one, when she'd brought up Orihime's recent visits from Renji.

Chizuru pouted over the rim of her glasses as she walked at Orihime's side. "But he's so much older than you," she said again, continuing the conversation they'd been having at Tatsuki's house that afternoon. "He's not even from Karakura! He'll just take off. _All_ men do that." Her smile broadened suggestively, leaning closer to her taller friend. "I wouldn't leave you, princess."

Orihime shied away a step on the sidewalk, breathing in the colder air as they passed the park that was nearly empty of visitors. "You don't even know Renji."

"I don't have to." Chizuru tossed her head. "All men leave. That's why women are better. At everything."

Orihime wasn't coaxed into sharing. She hadn't felt the need to share all day, even with Tatsuki, and she certainly wasn't about to reveal her most intimate moments with this friend. "You're wrong about him. You're wrong about a lot of things, Chizuru."

"If you'd only broaden your mind, princess," she said, linking her arm in Orihime's coat sleeve, smiling wider at her, pulling her closer, "you'd like it."

Orihime shrugged off the clutch, shaking her head, thoughts moving ahead to meeting Renji at Urahara's shop that evening. "Don't do that again."

Chizuru sighed and released her completely. They walked in silence for a block, passing the park's entrance, nearing the far end where the trees were bare of leaves, the traffic sparse in the growing cold of the early fading sunlight. This time when Orihime felt the chill in her back it was barely discernible, easily passed off as the weather, except for the lurking presence she could sense more than feel behind them.

She turned to look at the sidewalk behind them, seeing only a few pedestrians hurrying on their way home. Her eyes rose to the top of a building in the distance past the treetops.

Grimmjow squatted at the rooftop, watching them patiently, seemingly unaffected by the cold.

Orihime almost wished the numbing coldness would return to aid her in detecting him and wondered why it had stopped. At the moment she didn't care.

She turned around and grabbed Chizuru's arm and broke into a run. "Come on! It's getting late!"

Oblivious to the menace behind them, Chizuru giggled and tightened her hand on her friends, following as Orihime almost dragged her along. "Wow, you're faster than I thought, princess! It's not _that_ late!"

Orihime chanced a look behind them as they turned a corner at the park, lifting her head to see over the tall hedges that lined the public block. Grimmjow was no where to be seen, but she knew he wouldn't be land bound. She hurried them along, wishing for the moment a black-robed figure would sweep down and intercept him.

She and Chizuru were still at a dead run when Grimmjow dropped down before them where the trees and hedges were thicker along the sidewalk.

Orihime stopped abruptly, jerking Chizuru to a halt, sending her glasses flying off her face to crack on the sidewalk.

"What're you doing, Orihime?" Chizuru released her hand and bent to pick up the eyewear.

Orihime grabbed her arm and pulled her up as Grimmjow approached from farther down the sidewalk. "Let's go! Forget them!"

Chizuru put a hand to her head. "Ugh, I got this sudden headache..."

Orihime tugged harder, bracing her feet on the cement as Grimmjow's hand raised to them. "Come on, Chizuru!"

The cero fired beside them, blowing off a mature tree at mid-trunk. Orihime gasped and pulled Chizuru hard, stumbling into the park where the ornamental shrubs were bunched by color.

"What the hell was _that_?!" Chizuru looked to the smoldering tree, focusing as well she could in absence of her glasses. "Did you see that?"

Orihime pushed her friend on before her and turned to face Grimmjow as he entered the park. "Leave us alone!"

"Who're you talking to?" Chizuru angled her head to see what she was unable to.

Orihime shoved her into motion as Grimmjow closed in. "Get out of here, Chizuru!" When Chizuru didn't move, staring blindly at the apparently empty park, Orihime pushed her with all her might. "Get out of here!"

The next cero caught Chizuru in the stomach, a low power burst that knocked her to her knees on the ground, taking the wind out of her.

Orihime's hands flung before her, palms out as she summoned Hinagiku, Lily, and Baigon.

An evil grin crossed Grimmjow's face as he sent the next more powerful cero blast directly into the three-pointed shield she threw around her and the fallen girl.

"Not bad," he said, laughing as it deflected off, taking out a section of the hedges.

Behind her Chizuru groaned, and Orihime turned to see the girl sink further and fall over in a faint, the shrubbery near her singed.

"It would be too easy to kill her quickly," Grimmjow said.

"Oh, no," Orihime said, kneeling beside her friend, pulling her farther away. She looked up in time to see him fire again.

She leapt to her feet and blocked the blast in time, feeling the impact more forceful than the last. It left her shaky, not only the power behind it that she knew he was restraining, but because she knew she couldn't move her friend to safety and block effectively.

"She's not even the one you care for," Grimmjow said, closing the gap between them. "She's not the one you're usually with at school."

Orihime swallowed down the fear rising in her throat as he reached for his sword, a cold rush of blood coursing painfully through her mind. "Leave her alone! She can't hurt you!"

"Of course she can't," he sneered, closing the distance to a few yards. He stopped, disdain leasing his face as he looked at Chizuru's crumpled form. He walked a circle around them, amidst the shrubs, watching Orihime turn to follow his movements. "You're weak. I thought someone with your capacity to heal would be stronger."

A more forceful cero left his free hand and she knelt to one knee, blocking with what she knew to be one of the few last remaining shields, feeling the spirits' links weakening. She silently summoned Tsubaki, trying to catch her breath as Grimmjow circled again.

"What do you want?"

He raised a hand to her and she saw the blue light leave his palm.

Tsubaki's kotodama burst from her lips with the last of her desperation. "I reject!"

It wasn't enough, and she knew it. This time the cero was met with what remained of her strength in the form of Tsubaki.

Grimmjow easily caught the sprite in his hand, bringing Orihime to her feet, her body suddenly shaking with fury and fear at the same time.

"Let him go!" She'd taken two steps before she realized what she was doing.

Grimmjow didn't move any closer, simply staring at her, his hand closed firmly around the power sprite. "Let's talk about how you're going to help me."

She stepped back, shaking her head, retreating until her heel was beside Chizuru's unconscious body. "Please, don't hurt him."

He seemed not to hear her, taking a few steps to her side in a circle. "There's going to come a time in the near future when I'm going to allow one of your shinigami friends to best me in battle," he said with evident dislike.

"You're going to ..." Orihime faltered into a disbelieving frown, her eyes leaving the fist tight around Tsubaki to Grimmjow's face. "What do you want from me?"

He nodded, taking a few steps to her side until he was across from the girl on the ground. "It's going to be a fight in which I lose a battle to gain something much more valuable than a few moments of triumph." A wicked smile cut across his lips. "You're going resurrect me after I lose, Orihime Inoue. Just like you did Loly and Menoly in Hueco Mundo."

She shook her head slowly, the significance of his words ringing through her head. "No ..."

"Yes. You are." He held up his fist.

She held her breath, eyes on his large hand as he let his fingers relax.

Grimmjow took more enjoyment than he thought he should have out of watching her fearful hazel eyes as he slowly released the spite.

Tsubaki was undamaged for the most part, and Orihime put her hand to her right hairpin as he swiftly returned to it.

"That's what I thought," Grimmjow said, eyeing the clip nestled in her auburn hair.

"I can't do what you ask," she said, her breath catching as she shook her head.

His eyes went to Chizuru's still form. "Then I'll finish her off now and find your other friend."

"No!" She shook her head, biting her lip, unable to keep the plea from her tone. "I'll do it."

He nodded, stepping around the body between them. "That's a promise?"

She nodded.

"More of a promise than you made to Ulquiorra?"

The name jarred Orihime. She hadn't thought about that promise in over a year. She nodded. "Yes. I'll do it."

Without her even seeing him move, Grimmjow's hand reached quickly out and lifted her right hairpin from the side of her head, leaving a few stray wisps of hair trailing from his fingers.

She didn't think as she lunged for his hand, fingers lacing around his wrist as he looked to her with surprise. "No!"

He jerked his arm free of her, sending her to her knees with a shrug. "You'll get this back after you've revived me. Until then, they're mine."

A sudden sob caught her and she didn't care about the desperation in her voice. "Please, don't take them!"

He nodded. "In case you rethink your promise to me, girl." He glanced to the rooftops in the distance, scowling as he looked back to her. "But not now. You're too weak to be useful."

"Don't hurt them," she begged, getting to her feet. "Please. Please don't hurt them."

"Keep your promise."

He leaped away, leaving her in the early growing dusk of the day as two black-robed figures flashed overhead in pursuit.

Orihime was barely aware of them, but still knew neither were Renji or Ichigo. She looked down at her friend's unconscious form and then gave in to the tears that pained to be shed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story._


	22. Fair Play

Renji didn't like it. When Orihime was late in meeting him at Urahara's shop, he'd set off to find her, chiding himself for leaving her alone that afternoon despite her assurance earlier that she would be fine at Tatsuki's house.

He backtracked the streets he knew she'd use to take to her friend's neighborhood, and then made a wider pattern through the back alleys that he thought she may utilize.

He found her a street over from Chizuru's block, her steps slow as she followed the sidewalk. When she looked up at him her eyes were dry, having cried herself out after healing Chizuru's slight injuries. She was relieved the girl couldn't see her very well, and had tried to keep her voice as steady as she could while she walked her home, ever mindful of Grimmjow's return.

He didn't. Orihime didn't see any sign of him, not even a mild coldness at her back.

Renji didn't like what he saw in her face, even before she spoke. Her lower lip was nearly bit through, those soft lips that he'd kissed so passionately so recently now edged with chaffing.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of her mouth as she clutched her arms tighter over her coat, her voice faltering.

"What happened?" he asked as he met her.

Her head dropped as he moved her to a side street where the wind was less forceful, the traffic scarcer.

He lifted her chin as she told him what had happened, his thumb gentle on the wind burnt red of her tear-stained cheek. He pulled her close when she finished her account of Grimmjow's careful attack, holding her for a long moment as she sniffled against his chest, both slightly numb at her recent encounter.

After a moment of composure she agreed to meet with Urahara, but this time their purpose was different.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Renji, Orihime, Urahara, and Tessai sat around the low table at the back of the shop, a smaller room that was used for what little entertaining the shopkeeper admitted in the store. Tessai had supplied a liberal amount of tea and rice thins when he saw the beaten look of the girl's countenance, adding a mumble of suggestion to Urahara as they took their seats.

Urahara nodded, eyes on Orihime's meek posture as she sat beside Renji. The shinigami was still livid, but much of his ire was voiced-out when he'd first appeared at the back door with her.

"I know, I know," Urahara said for the fifth time as Tessai poured them all a second cup of tea. "He should've been stopped before this. But he wasn't, and that's what we've got to deal with now, Renji."

Tessai pushed the dish of thins to Orihime. Her appetite was off -- something he knew uncharacteristic of her -- but she took one anyway, setting it on the small napkin near her tea.

"You were right, but we need think of what to do now," the shopkeeper said, sighing.

"We need to find the bastard and get rid of him. I've been saying that but you had to have your research --"

"It wasn't all _my_ research," Urahara defended without much effort, his eyes on Orihime's fallen expression that took the conviction from his tone. "You can't destroy him now, Renji. Not you, not Ichigo. She'll never get her hair pin and sprites back that way. Corpses don't cooperate very well."

Renji didn't want clarification on that matter. "There's no guarantee Grimmjow will make good on his word to return the hair pin even after she revives him." His hand moved to rest on Orihime's under the table on her knee. "The hair pins are just the physical aspect of your powers, right?"

She nodded, turning reddened eyes to him.

He continued. "Can you summon them without the pins?"

"I advise against that," Tessai said, his usually deep voice less forceful.

"If she can do it, she should." Renji felt her alarm at the suggestion, her fingers tensing beneath his. "I know they were a gift from your brother," he said, hand covering her fingers more firmly.

"It's more than that," Tessai said as Urahara began to speak. "The pins are directly connected to Tsubaki, Hinagiku, and Baigon. Damage to the pins amounts to damage to their powers. Even summoning them would put them at risk. They'd be vulnerable to Grimmjow."

"You could leave them."

Everyone looked to Urahara at the suggestion.

"I'm not saying that you should, Miss Orihime," he said quickly under Renji and Tessai's heavy glances. "But as long as we're exploring options, it's one possibility."

She shook her head stoutly, sitting straighter on her knees. "I won't leave them, Urahara-san. But I don't want to keep my promise, either."

"How bad could it be?" Yoruichi said as she sauntered into the room, feline form curling to sit by Urahara's cushion beside the table. "You revive him, he's at large in the town, as he's been for the last month. We take him down." Her gold eyes blinked. "He comes back again. That's it. A constant menace, yes, but that's about it." She turned her attention on Tessai. "Could he be contained in a binding spell?"

Tessai had perked up at the suggestion. "Yes. For a while. I can't guarantee it would last long enough to find a more permanent way to dispose of him, but it could buy us time."

"What about a binding spell before he's revived?" Renji asked Tessai. Orihime looked quickly to him, her hopes rising.

"Can that be done?" she asked,

The large man nodded slowly, thinking over the idea. "A spell strong enough to hold someone as powerful as Grimmjow might be too strong to allow you to revive him. Even a less forceful spell would make it difficult for you to work, Miss Inoue."

"Even then it would mean someone with Tessai's capabilities would have to be there," Urahara said. "But I suppose he could be revived, and then a spell placed on him immediately afterward. It's chancy, but maybe."

"He's putting himself in a vulnerable situation," Yoruichi said, looking to Orihime. "Cheer up; he's in your hands. That's a powerful position for you. The balance of loss is greater against him than you. A matter of fair play."

"He knows she won't abandon her powers to him, even if he can't utilize them," Renji said to the cat.

Urahara nodded. "There's no guarantee, in any way you look at it. She might not revive him, and he might not return the hair pin even if she does keep her promise."

For a few long moments in the stillness of the room they each stared at their cups of tea, except for Yoruichi, who stared at Urahara. He read the look on her dark face, and finally spoke.

"What? You blame me for this?" he asked her.

Her upright tail curled at the tip, eyes narrowing. "You and Mayuri _had_ to one-up each other in the research department. You had to know Grimmjow wasn't sight-seeing for the last month. Renji's right about not taking care of this sooner."

Urahara scratched the back of his neck, nodding slightly. "I'm not all to blame."

Tessai was watching Orihime closely as she looked at the cooling tea in her cup. "You'll do it, won't you?"

Her teeth inched to her bitten lip, but she refused to damage it further. As much as she wanted say no, she knew the answer. Renji's hand tightened on hers in a stronger grip, emboldening her lagging confidence.

"I'll do it."

"Are you strong enough?" Tessai asked.

"If I take my time, I think so. Yes," she said determinedly. "Yes."

* * *

She spent the next part of the early evening at Renji's apartment. The chill air had grown more so with the darkness settling over the town, and she welcomed the hot cocoa he made her in the kitchen of the small set of rooms.

She wrapped both hands around the mug, smiling slowly at the warmth emanating from the liquid inside as she stood at the counter.

The music from Mrs. Tanaka's apartment below was lower than usual, a slow ballad. She looked to Renji beside her as he leaned back against the counter, his arm loosely around the front of her waist. There wasn't judgment in his eyes, for which she was glad, no accusatory hints in their brown depths that she'd half expected when she told him of her promise.

"No way around it," he said again, fingers pressing against her side. "It just puts him back where he is now, with perks. There's got to be a way around it. But there's no way around getting your hair pin back."

She nodded, her hands leaving the cup as he pulled her beside him, forcing her to mold to him as his other arm came around her, his lips on the top of her head.

"Can you do it?" he asked, his words muffled against her hair.

She nodded, letting her arms encircle his waist, sighing contentedly after her fright that afternoon, his nearness bringing a long-sought safety. "When I healed Chizuru it was simple. It's been coming back easier now, Renji. Ever since Rukia." She lifted her face to look at him, leaning against his chest. "I can do it, I think, but I don't want to."

He nodded, his thoughts already working ahead of the present. "You just worry about the healing part."

She nodded, settling her cheek against his chest, eyes on the points of tattoo that she could see dissolve beneath the collar of his black t-shirt.

"Tired?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm out of practice with my shields and Tsubaki."

"But no problem healing your friend?"

"No." Her breath was warm over his neck as she sighed, her posture sagging against him. "Just tiring."

"It was a lot to do. Fending off Grimmjow's attack and healing even minor injuries." His hand slid up her back, fingers slipping beneath her hair, his exhale against her chest making her smile a bit more.

"I still need more practice, Renji. I should be able to do more."

"You're exhausted." He pulled her back to look at him, feeling resistance in her body as she leaned away from him. "Finish you cocoa, Orihime. Then you can rest."

She nodded, a little confused. He watched her sip the chocolate drink, the rich flavor lost on her as her mind volleyed between what she said she would do and what she felt drawn not to do. He had her sit on the futon in the small living area when she was done before he disappeared into his bedroom.

He reappeared a moment later, sans gigai, in shinigami attire to find her slumped over on the piece of furniture, sleeping soundly. He knelt beside her, pulling the throw pillow closer to support her head better. She stirred a little, moving to rest more fully on the pillow.

Renji pushed her hair from her face, gently, so as not to wake her, eyes resting on her lips, the lower one bitten near the tip, a bruise of blood at the edge. "Rest up," he said too low to wake her. He placed a small kiss on the inside of her wrist curled near the pillow. "Rest up, love."

He was looking over the bamboo fence between Mrs. Tanaka's lot and Urahara's shop from the apartment house rooftop and was about to move on before Yoruichi stopped him.

"Don't do it, Renji," the cat said, bounding over closer to him with expert leaps atop the fence.

He paused at the rooftop edge, still looking out over what he could see of the small dark neighborhood. "I'm taking a look around."

"I know. Make sure that's all it is." She sat on the fence, tail flicking alertly. "Let her rest tonight. There's no reason to go after Grimmjow so soon. Even if you kill him now, there's no guarantee he'll have the hair pin on him. I'm quite certain he won't carry it with him before he's been resurrected."

He nodded, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of horizon where the Karakura buildings grew larger. With a glance at the cat, he leaped from the rooftop into the night.

Renji didn't want to look in the Kurosaki windows on the second floor, partly because of what he might see, and partly because he didn't want to ask for the temporary's help. But he did.

Much as he hated to admit several things about Ichigo Kurosaki, the young shinigami was good at battle. Renji hovered outside the first bedroom window on the second level, the wind whipping colder and faster through the maple trees around him in the early starry nightfall.

Inside the window Yuzu was knelt between the twin beds, Kon held hostage in his role as Bostov, his dolly finery best trappings on him at the table to play tea party with the girl's other dolls. Renji moved on.

The next window was Ichigo's, as evidenced by the muted music coming from it. He waited for a moment, not wanting to see something he really wanted to avoid seeing, until the urgency of his matter made him peek through the light blue curtains.

Rukia looked back at him, her scowl at the ready. _At least she was fully clothed_, Renji thought, realizing the sisterly image of her was becoming ingrained in him.

She unlatched the window and flung it open, hostile eyes turning soft immediately when she saw him better.

"Renji? What's wrong?"

"Where's Ichigo?"

"In the shower. What's wrong? What're doing you here?"

Too many words flooded his mind to choose the most pertinent. He nodded to the closed door to Ichigo's bedroom. "Get him in here."

Her standard snide remark was put aside. "Is Orihime all right?"

"No. She's at my place. Go over there and stay with her, please, Rukia," he said more than asked.

She nodded, large violet eyes slowly comprehending the severity of the matter. "I'll go. Is she okay?"

"Yes. Grimmjow visited her. Stay with her until we get back."

She nodded as Ichigo came in the door beyond her, wearing a pair of sweat pants and an overly large t-shirt, brushing his teeth vigorously, his wet hair slicked back.

"Hey!" he yelled, seeing Renji at the window. "What's going on?"

"Get your ass out here," Renji told him. "It's about Orihime."

Ichigo nearly dropped his toothbrush.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story_.


	23. Monster Again

The wind was stiffer, more than the October night should have brought as Renji and Ichigo sprung from building top to building top five minutes later. There had been no sign of Grimmjow, nor was there for the next half hour.

By that time they'd covered half of Karakura Town, and the black sky overhead shone clear starlight down on the residents unsuspecting, as always, the forces that watched the streets. The only reiatsu was what the pair of shinigami emitted themselves, and the brief ripple that found them occasionally. They halted on the tallest building on the south side of town before heading back to make another semi-circle of the area.

"No one I know," Ichigo said, eyes on the end of town where the flickering spiritual pressure fluctuated. "Too weak."

Renji nodded, the rising wind cutting around him barely registering with him in his present state of mind.

"You can't do anything about it tonight, Renji," Ichigo reminded for the fourth time since they'd left the Kurosaki residence after Rukia had departed for Renji's apartment. "She's too tired, and there's no point in challenging him now. You can't --"

"I know that." Renji snapped. He'd taken a moment to bring Ichigo up to speed on the afternoon's events, watching the temporary's face darken with rage and contained frustration.

And failure.

Renji knew the look. He'd been there, too. He'd let Rukia down, let her be taken to prison, where his efforts at saving her from that final march to Soukyoku Hill had failed.

"Let's see what's down there," he said, pushing the thoughts from his mind, nodding to where the inkling of reiatsu was drifting in the rising wind.

By the time they ascended into the dark alley the spiritual pressure had grown, but only in a spurt, and only too late did Ichigo and Renji arrive.

Loly and Menoly had already left the scene, a white-robed, unranked Twelfth Division probationary on the alley ground, her thin form seeming even smaller with her spiritual energy drained.

"Damn it," Renji muttered, approaching the still girl slouched against the dumpster. "Damn Arrancar bitches."

Ichigo was looking to the building tops overhead, no sign of either Arrancar against the dark skies. "I'm going to find them."

"Save them for another time." Renji knelt beside the young woman, barely old enough to be in the Living World, he determined, and certainly not alone. He turned her over carefully, her slight form and dark hair reminding him of Momo Hinamori. She was past dead, drained and colder than she should have been. He pulled her up and set her over his shoulder. "Let's get her to Urahara's shop."

"Might as well," Ichigo said, scowl on the girl's limp body.

* * *

They dropped the Twelfth Division member off with Tessai, Urahara and Yoruichi being absent from the shop, and spent only a few moments speaking with the large Kido expert. By the time they got to Renji's apartment it was near midnight, and Orihime and Rukia were on their second cup of cocoa in the kitchen.

The apartment lacked a table of any sort, and the lone stool was unoccupied on the opposite side of the counter at the kitchenette, the four of them at the sink area. They'd spent another fifteen minutes with Orihime reluctantly telling Ichigo her encounter with Grimmjow.

Renji set his beer on the counter, Orihime's words striking a sour note in him, again. She was tired still, but more alert after her short nap that Rukia had interrupted earlier. She stood at his side, eyes weary for reasons other than her attack and short fight with the Espada.

"That's why he's been avoiding any real fights," Renji said, knowing Ichigo was thinking it. "He's obviously gotten stronger the last month, replenishing whatever he's lost since the War."

"And looking for you," Rukia said to Orihime. "All those schoolgirls that ..." She left off speaking at a piercing look from Renji. She shook her head as Orihime finished her cocoa. "With that sort of power he could challenge even Aizen, at some point."

"Aizen is too damn strong to fall to the likes of Grimmjow," Ichigo said, "and too smart to let the Espada near him with that advantage."

"Aizen won't know," Renji said, looking to Orihime as she turned to him. "Do you think Aizen knows about Loly and Menoly being revived?"

She shook her head. "Not that I know of. It was only them and Grimmjow there. Unless one of them told Aizen-sama."

"Doubt that," Renji and Ichigo said at the same time.

Renji shook his head. "It doesn't matter what Grimmjow plans for the Realm. Not our problem; only what he does here and now."

"A Kido spell won't work," Rukia said as she drained her cup of cocoa, tilting her head back to get the last of it. "Grimmjow won't return your hair pin if he's bound, Orihime."

"He might not return it anyway," Ichigo grumbled. He'd passed on the beer Renji offered him earlier, and was beginning to regret it.

"She's got a better chance if he's alive than dead," Rukia told him sharply. "It's the only chance she has."

Ichigo started to say something else, then remembered what Renji had told him about Tessai's warning against Orihime attempting to summon the sprites without the hair pins. "I thought the bastard was dead," he said lowly, looking at the dark residue of settled cocoa in his mug.

The look of failure was back in Ichigo's face, and it almost made Renji want to punch him. He knew the emotion well. He knew Ichigo felt he'd failed Orihime by leaving Grimmjow alive in Hueco Mundo, had failed her in other battles that left her injured.

Renji had overheard the young shinigami's promises in the past, ones that neither Ichigo nor Orihime knew anyone heard, least of all him. At the time Renji could relate to overwhelmingly failing a friend who had trusted in you, but since, in the last month or so, with the shift in relationships, Renji had felt both his and Ichigo's downfalls more acutely.

He saw Orihime's eyes on her empty cup, unaware of Ichigo's turmoil. "We all thought he was dead," he said, feeling her lean to his side slightly at the words. "We thought they all were."

Rukia looked from the stern look on Ichigo's face that was growing sterner by the second back to Orihime and her oldest friend in either world. "Let's go, Ichigo. She's okay now, and we can't do anything else about Grimmjow tonight."

He cast a sharp look at the short shinigami to his side. He nodded. "Let's go." He set his mug on the counter, gaze flicking between Renji and Orihime for a moment, until she raised her eyes to him. "We'll take care of him, Orihime. You can bring him back, get your hair pin returned, and we'll find a way around this. Don't worry about it."

She nodded. "Thanks, Kurosaki-kun."

After Ichigo and Rukia had left, Renji tried to make Orihime another cup of chocolate, but she refused.

"I've already had three," she said, smiling a little as he set the water kettle on the hot plate.

"Sure? I've got plenty." He watched her make an effort at the smile, her gaze dropping to her hands that were clasped before her.

She nodded, sighing. He put a hand to her chin, making her gaze meet his, looking to each of her eyes that threatened tears.

"No," he said gently, his thumb rubbing lightly over her bottom lip as her teeth edged to bite it. "None of that, Orihime. Don't ruin your pretty lips."

She dropped the lip, letting him pull her close, settling against his black robes as her arms went around his back. "I have to get my hair pin back. I can't let them go, Renji."

He shook his head, holding her tighter as her eyes filled with unvoiced worry. "No one wants you to."

"After he's revived, and doesn't need anything from me," her voice faded, and she cleared her throat, eyes steady on him. "He'll kill me. Maybe he'll return my hair pin, but then he'll turn around and kill me." Her gaze dropped to the edge of tattoo she could see at his collar. "There won't be any reason not to."

Renji's embrace grew stronger around her at the words, one hand sliding beneath her hair to angle her head up to look at him. "Keep your promise; let us take care of the rest."

She nodded, a soft sigh escaping her. "What will Soul Society do to me?"

He was hoping she wouldn't ask about the issue, but it was in the back of his mind since she'd told him of her attack that afternoon. He volleyed between telling her an outright lie to pacify the trepidation in her eyes and what he could guess at the truth to the matter. "You're only doing what you need to do to get your hair pin back."

She nodded, still watching his eyes, trying to read more than he wanted her to see. "They'll think I'm a traitor. Some still do from the War."

"No, no one ... Well, Captain Soi Fon is of a one track mind anyway, Orihime, so don't worry about her." He smiled, hoping to lighten her mood. "No one else thinks badly of you. Things have changed since the War. With the Council of 46 gone there's a little less blind leadership, you could say. No one wants absolute control like the Council had. More things have been put to a vote, more equalization among the Gotei 13. That's why Ichigo had to demonstrate his control over his Hollow. With the Council still in charge of _every_ thing he'd have been contained without question." Renji had stopped himself from saying _eliminated_ aloud, but it was a more accurate term than contained. He saw her eyes drop to his lips as he spoke. "They'll have to be alerted, so that anyone being sent over knows what they're up against now, but a good Kido spell after your get your hair pin back will keep Grimmjow in line for a while."

She nodded as he kissed her slowly, temporarily erasing the strain of the afternoon and her reluctant outlook of the future. She let herself fold into his robes, his arms more forceful around her until her fears eased into calm.

"Stay here tonight," he said, ending the kiss, bringing her face up to see her better. He grinned, shaking his head at the slight pink that touched her cheeks at the mention. "Not that. I'll sleep on the couch. It's late, and you've had a rough day."

She was tempted to simply nod and let his nearness make her new trouble more bearable, but she shook her head. "I should go home. I really should, Renji."

"I promise not to bother you."

A smile hinted at her lips, but she shook her head, lifting her face to kiss him. "Not tonight."

* * *

Orihime spent the next few days waiting, waiting for Grimmjow to sweep down on her and confront her with new demands. She knew he wouldn't, probably wouldn't even approach her until she was with a shinigami, and not necessarily Renji or Ichigo.

Another talk with Renji had made her realize a few more things about Grimmjow's demands. The Espada clearly knew there were half a dozen shinigami in town, and only a few that were aware of exactly who he was, and fewer of his demands. She didn't think he'd initiate a fight with a Soul Reaper when she wasn't around; it'd be too risky to remain dead out of sheer ignorance of his bargain with her.

She didn't know what to do the first day, whether to wander the streets of town chaperoned by Renji, Ichigo, or Rukia, or to wait at the park, where she was certain he'd make rounds.

Instead she passed the day alone in her apartment with Shuno, Ayame, and Lily, not quite practicing, because it was impossible without someone to heal, but simply reminding them of the importance of her promise, and of its success.

Fortunately, Ayame was more tolerable of her neglect than Tsubaki generally was, and Orihime's periodic conversations with the healing sprite made her wonder of her missing hair pin's safety.

Tsubaki would be livid when he got back, she knew. She anticipated even his chastisement, so long as she got them back unharmed.

* * *

Her chance came two days later. She'd spent lunches the past few days with Renji at a café a few blocks away from Urahara's shop, partly for exposure to any chance Grimmjow may want to take, and also to keep her mind from festering on how Soul Society would react to her aiding the enemy.

Mrs. Tanaka had found errands and odd jobs for Renji, making him split off more of his time from what he preferred to do while running Urahara's long gigai test, but it paid his rent and kept him out from under the shopkeeper's roof.

Lunch was over, and they were heading home by way of the longer route along the park, the brisk cloudy day interrupted by gusts of wind that caught them by surprise a few times.

"... thought it was just an earthquake," Orihime told Renji as they passed the west entrance of the park, relaying her conversation from the day before with Chizuru. "She couldn't see much of it ..." She looked up at him as he slowed their walk and glanced to the office building across the park above the treetops.

She looked there too, seeing Grimmjow's crouched silhouette at the rooftop of the building. She hugged her coat closer around her, feeling Renji's arm come over her shoulders as he watched the figure in the distance.

"Are you ready to get your pin back?" he asked, hand tightening on her shoulder.

She nodded, her fingers trembling on her sleeves. "If he'll fight."

Renji nodded, not anxious for what he knew would be a contrived clash, at best. He looked down at her, hating the mixture of dread and early regret on her face.

He led them around the back of the park, where the hedges were higher, nearly overhead, not the ornamental type that lined the front and side entrances. He left his gigai against a tree near a clump of barberry hedges, hoping the deep red would camouflage what would most likely be mistaken for a drunkard. It was something Urahara needed to work on.

Orihime didn't like the lurch of nerves that swept her stomach, making knots of her lunch and threatening her senses. She hung back by the high hedges as Renji directed before he turned his back to her and started across the empty street beyond the park. She didn't feel the wind cutting colder across the park and through the playground swings, conscious only of the figure in white that met Renji across the street. She hugged her arms tighter in front of her, praying for the impossible.

Zabimaru's hilt twisted in Renji's grip, an eagerness only its master could feel, the prospect of taking down the former Espada eluding the sword's soul in anticipation of the fight. Renji had noticed it before, the sword's dual soul's blindness to the purpose behind a battle in expectation of the fight itself sometimes. It occasionally got in the way of the purpose behind fighting, but never enough to correct what he considered a minor flaw.

Grimmjow ascended to the street, eyes shifting to where Orihime stood at the hedges beyond Renji, nodding as she watched them.

It was all Renji needed to see to know the Espada wanted a land bound fight, and would only want that for one reason. He circled to his side, watching Grimmjow follow the movement, sword already in hand.

"I know what you want from her," he called as Grimmjow circled opposite in ever smaller arcs. "How good is your promise?"

"She'll get her trinket back," Grimmjow said, chuckling at his concern.

Renji eyes narrowed on him, hand tightening on the katana hilt. "She's prepared to keep her part of the bargain. I want something in return."

Grimmjow laughed, louder this time, seeing Orihime take a step closer from her distance. "I have no deal with you, shinigami."

"Make one."

"I have no business with you."

Renji lowered his sword and eased his posture, watching the Espada scowl at the movement. "I want something from you, coward!"

Grimmjow growled at the word. "What do you want?"

Renji gripped the sword hilt again, this time his determination peaking. "After this is over, you leave her alone. Forever."

"Forever is a long time."

"So is resurrection."

Grimmjow's gaze settled on the girl anxiously watching them.

"You stay away from her," Renji demanded. "Got it?"

For a few moments Grimmjow appeared to think about it, still circling as Renji mirrored his actions. He nodded. "She makes you vulnerable, shinigami."

Renji's hand turned white-knuckle tight around the leather hilt. "Do we have a deal?"

Grimmjow nodded. "I don't butcher lambs."

He launched at Renji, a swift strike that Renji easily caught and returned with double force, beating the Espada back half the length of the hedges, nearly out of sight to Orihime.

He knew Grimmjow's movements were merely perfunctory, textbook swordplay that showed neither the Espada's strength nor skill, the eerie mask covering his jaw unable to hide the disdain at having to play at fighting long enough to succumb to the ultimate defeat.

Renji put more force into a quick slash that tore Grimmjow's shirt half open, bringing a snarl from him at the proximity. His blade caught Zabimaru overhead, followed by a sudden surge of reiatsu that shook the small building at the edge of the park.

With a slightly triumphant grin Renji struck back harder, equaling in spiritual force, but not ready to call out Zabimaru's commands, knowing the sheer restraint of Grimmjow remaining in an unreleased state was enough to tear at the Espada's ego.

With a backhanded slice Renji's blade cut through Grimmjow's chest, a gaping wound that typically wouldn't have penetrated his reiatsu-hardened skin. Renji didn't know if it was a result of being still lower-powered or if Grimmjow had allowed the wound, and it didn't much matter which. Not with the predetermined outcome of the fight.

He followed immediately with a lethal slash that cut deep into the Espada's chest. Grimmjow staggered back a step, somewhat surprised, his sword tightly gripped in his hand as his sharp gaze snapped to where Orihime stood. He sunk to his knees, and collapsed prone on the street.

Renji stood over him, nothing victorious in the fight pulling at him, watching the livelihood seep out of the large figure. With the tip of his sword he prodded the Espada's shoulder. Seeing no movement, he knelt and flipped him over.

Grimmjow's unseeing eyes stared back, half open, glazed. Renji felt the spiritual pressure drop around him, loathing the flimsy fight, wishing he could've called for Zabimaru to slay the Espada in the manner deserving.

He looked up as Orihime edged closer, her eyes wide on the prone form, hands clutched before her, her face ashen white. Renji took a moment to make a quick search of the body.

"Damn thing doesn't even have pockets," he said after a brief search, flipping the body back over. He stood and draped one arm over Orihime's shoulder, stroking her hair as she fought off a low whimper at the task now facing her, eyes locked on the body at their feet.

"I told you he wouldn't have it on him."

Orihime and Renji both looked to Yoruichi sitting at the edge of the curb.

"You didn't think he would, did you?" she asked.

Renji shook his head. Orihime looked guiltily to the cat.

"Miss Yoruichi-san, I didn't know you were here," she said.

The cat nodded, eyes on Renji. "Well, it's done. Now let's see you bring him back, Orihime."

Renji shook his head. "We can't put him under a binding spell until she gets --"

"I know. I told Tessai that, and he agrees," Yoruichi said, tail switching slowly. "Time for that later."

Orihime nodded, reluctantly kneeling beside the fallen form, feeling Renji's hand on her shoulder as the coldness from the pavement seeped into her knees through her jeans. He leaned to her ear, watching her eyes soften as she looked to him.

"Just get it over with and we'll leave here. You'll be done," he assured.

She nodded, and turned back to Grimmjow.

Renji stepped back, sword still in hand in case trouble arose upon the Espada's resurrection.

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes not much seemed to change to the form, not until Renji was beginning to think Orihime's heart wasn't in the task, her reluctance blocking her abilities, until a slight shudder ran through the downed figure.

Orihime scooted back quickly, a shaky movement that brought a muted cry from her.

Grimmjow's head turned at the sound.

Renji pulled Orihime up by her elbow, careful when she nearly tripped in her haste to move away from the Espada.

She turned her face from her work, hands clutching Renji's shinigami robe before her at his chest. "Let's leave here, Renji. Please. I don't want to stay."

He nodded, eyes flicking behind her where Grimmjow was showing more signs of life, raising to rest on one hand slowly, disoriented. Renji looked back to Orihime, hating the unmasked alarm possessing her. "We'll go."

"I suggest cocoa," Yoruichi said, scampering off ahead, but not without a cautionary glance behind them. "Take her back, Renji. Lots of hot cocoa."

He nodded, turning Orihime ahead of him behind the cat.

He cast a glance behind them, katana hilt gripping tighter in his hand upon seeing Grimmjow reach for his sword nearby, sitting back on his heels in an unsteady movement.

He looked back to Orihime, her eyes clouded, focused before her. They turned the corner of hedges where the overcast day came back to life with pedestrian traffic to the park entrance and he glanced to where he'd left his hidden gigai.

Renji kissed Orihime's temple, watching a hint of smile reach her lips. "You did good. You're done with him."

She nodded, her sigh mixed with relief and regret.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story._


	24. Paralyzing the Past

Orihime slept fitfully that night, the events of the day invading her dreams until she awoke with a start early the next morning before the cold sun had a chance to find her window. She lay still in the quiet room, even her neighbor's radio too low to hear. She hated that time of day the most, even more so than being alone on the verge of nightfall. She sighed, bundling deeper into the blankets, sighing in relief that the dream was simply an evil reminder of what she'd done.

She squeezed her eyes tight shut, letting Renji's words replay through her mind to ease the guilt of resurrecting Grimmjow. Her thoughts hung on the words, recalling his low voice near her ear as she pulled the blankets closer to her, wishing again to be in his arms in intimate contact.

She didn't fight off the blush that warmed her cheeks as she thought back on their shared moments of Sunday night. It hadn't been planned, and she didn't think he was expecting it, but she was glad that it'd happened.

She smiled despite the nightmare that had awakened her, alternating drifts of sensory glimpses making her mind replay the moments, lingering on the feel of his hands on her skin, the intensity of his actions, and of her own. It surprised her, her own responses to him, and the engulfing pleasure far surpassed the initial pain.

It had been on her mind almost exclusively for the last few days, until the awful scene in the park with Chizuru. It was there every time she looked at Renji. She knew it was on his mind, too. She'd seen it in his eyes, the possessive way his hand tightened on hers now, even when they were in public, like at the café for lunch. She liked it a lot.

With a sigh she rolled onto her side, her arm stretching across the mattress where'd he lain that Monday morning, wishing she could go back to those moments. She opened her eyes, focusing in the gray morning light of day, gaze resting on the nightstand by the bed. The photo of Sora stared back at her.

Her lone hair pin lay beside the frame, jarring any enjoyable memories from her mind. Sunday night seemed a millions miles away now.

She took a deep breath and pulled the blankets close to her chin, dreading the day ahead without half her powers and knowing she'd enabled an enemy the ultimate advantage.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to the photo. "I wish I could have found a way around it." She pulled her hair to one side, sighing. "Nothing has been right since you left." She thought more about the last six weeks, smiling a little. "Maybe some things have been right."

She rose to get dressed, both anxious and dreading her meeting scheduled later at Urahara's shop, thanks to Yoruichi's insistence the day before over cocoa at Renji's place.

Maybe Hachigen _could_ help. Yoruichi seemed to think it likely.

Orihime certainly hoped so.

* * *

Hachigen Ushouda's massive round form took up much of the space in the back room at Urahara's shop, his bulk running nearly the length of the wide side of the table, dwarfing even Tessai's normally impressive stature. The room was warm, fragrant with Tessai's freshly baked sesame thins and pot of tea at the table top.

Orihime bowed to the large seated man as she entered the doorway. She heard Renji slide the door shut to within inches behind her after wishing her good luck. Tessai was on his feet, extending a hand to her in welcome.

"Sit down, Miss Inoue," he said when she hesitated. "You remember Hachi Ushouda."

"Oh, yes," she said, bowing quickly again, stepping to the table in the room. She sat down across from the rotund former Kido officer. "How are you?"

He smiled kindly at her, making his jowls bulge, even when empty. "Hello, Miss Orihime. I'm sorry to hear you've had a very trying time lately. Maybe we can figure out a way to contain this new problem."

She nodded eagerly. "I hope so. I really do."

Tessai slid a plate of sesame thins to her and poured her a cup of tea from his favorite white and green porcelain tea service. "Soul Society hasn't been notified yet," he said, handing her the cup. "Since Twelfth Division is in charge of this current Hollow matter in town, we can assume it best to alert one of their more senior members."

"Thank you," she said, accepting the tea and taking a thin. "I don't want anyone getting hurt because of my mistakes."

Her voice dropped as she said it, and Hachigen shook his head, eyes saddening as he watched her. "I don't see how you could have avoided it, Miss Orihime. Now, for what we can do to rectify Grimmjow's new ability after he returns Tsubaki, Baigon, and Hinagiku to you."

"We've discussed at length the Kido spells available for such containment," Tessai said, nudging the plate of thins closer to her. "Any Kido spell strong enough to create a barrier to a resurrected Espada of Grimmjow's caliber will wear out as quickly as it is strong. That's our main problem with this issue. Because it's you," he said, his gentle voice belying the impact of his words, "a fellow power-wielder of time and space manipulation, Miss Orihime, our spiritual energy is at odds with yours. Much as I admire your abilities, I do not relish the idea of competing with them."

"Oh..." Her eyes clouded, her gaze dropping to her untouched cup of tea. "I'm very sorry."

"On the other hand," Hachigen's gravely voice added, "because it _is_ you, we can find out more of what we need to know."

"Oh, yes," she said, nodding quickly, hopes rising. "But I'm afraid I don't know too much about my own powers. Not like I wish I did."

Tessai looked to his contemporary, nodding. Hachigen smiled at Orihime.

"What we do know is that your power over events can alter even death, an enviable control that we haven't been able to study, especially its fully restorative nature," Hachigen said. "We know it can undo death, but we're unsure how that affects the restored individual, here Grimmjow. If we could manage to study one of the Arrancar females it would be beneficial. I don't know that an Espada would make a good test subject."

"Oh, no," she said with an agreeable nod, cringing at the thought of such an attempt. "I don't think so."

"As interested as Kisuke is to study your powers, Miss Orihime," Tessai said, "we've realized there may be a better way to go about it in the future. If you're still willing to help him."

"Oh, yes," she said without thinking, but nodding more slowly as she considered his words. "I'd still like to help."

"Good."

"As for the current problem, we were thinking about something along the lines of a forbidden high level Bakudou spell in paralysis for Grimmjow," Hachigen said, pink mustache stretching into a line as he smiled. "It wouldn't be a complete solution, but it would last longer, weaken him, and definitely slow him down."

She smiled. "You can do that?"

This time there was less surety in the faces of both men.

"Theoretically, it would work," Tessai said, taking a deep breath, "but the very nature of a forbidden spell is that no one knows for certain how well they work, being forbidden. It's not unbreakable, but with the added element of paralysis, we feel it best suited for this situation."

"What I have in mind has had only limited testing," Hachigen said, his tea cup disappearing in his large hand as he held it. "The mid-to-high level spell I'm suggesting is a sort of reiatsu castration, for lack of a better term," he continued, watching her slight grimace, "that would be broken over time and effort on his part. It would be exhausting for him, but I believe he'd be capable, especially with his resolve and increasing strength. It would also be broken completely if he were to be slain and upon his automatic resurrection. You can see the drawbacks."

She nodded, looking to Tessai. "It's been tested? On, on ..." she didn't want to make an effort at guessing who the unfortunate testee was.

Hachigen nodded at her reluctance. "Kensei allowed a low-power spell of the sort about fifty years ago. Very limited, mind you, and I was on standby in case there were problems." He shrugged his large shoulders. "He broke it after a short time, but reported it was very effective during that time. A mid or high level spell would be much more effective. Kensei was unwilling to undergo those tests."

She nodded, understanding fully the limits of the testing. "I see. That was very brave of Muguruma-san. It's worth a try?"

Hachigen nodded, taking a sip of his tea. "Now the problem is arranging a chance to place Grimmjow under such a potent spell. After he's returned your hair pin."

"If he does at all," Tessai added.

Orihime made herself nod. "He'd be weakest after reviving."

"That means he'd have to lose a fight," Tessai reminded.

She nodded again, not liking the slim chances of the possibility.

"On the other hand," Tessai said, pouring Hachigen more tea in the cup that had reappeared as he set it down, "we know he and the Arrancar females are claiming sources of power. That makes shinigamis targets. With Grimmjow's newly regained powers, it seems he'll be seeking out stronger opponents, and with his history with Kurosaki, we feel it's only a matter of time before Grimmjow confronts him."

She nodded slowly, thoughts turning to her friend and long time former infatuation. She turned the sesame thin in her fingers. "Kurosaki-kun."

"I wouldn't worry too much about Ichigo," Tessai said, pushing the plate closer to her. "He's a capable fighter."

She nodded, smiling more. "He is."

"A matter of time," Hachigen said. "That's all it is now, Miss Orihime."

* * *

Explaining her conversation with Tessai and Hachigen later to Renji at his place helped Orihime realize the fragility of the plan. He listened intently as they sat on his futon in the small main room. It was quiet, Mrs. Tanaka's apartment below silent of music.

Renji nodded as she detailed the advice from Tessai and Hachigen. He'd watched her face change from hope to desperation, her usual liveliness returning in part as she spoke, her lower lip less traumatized than it had been a day ago.

"It's a temporary fix, but it should work," he said as she shifted on the futon, turning to face him better. Her cup of cocoa was empty, steadied on her knee. He saw her eyes flick to the clock on the wall. "What are your plans for the afternoon?"

"I'm going over to Tatsuki's soon. Just for a few hours," she said, watching his arm move closer around her along the top of the futon back. "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

"You don't have to offer dinner, Orihime," he said, taking the cup from her and placing it on the floor at her foot. His hand returned to rest beside hers on her knee. "Do you want more cocoa?"

"No. I like when you come over for dinner."

He nodded, his thumb chasing the crease out of her jeans across her bent knee. "I'll bring over take-out from that noodle shop down from your place."

She nodded, smiling at his hand warm on her leg, her eyes still on his fingers when his other hand moved to her face, brushing the thick auburn hair back that had dropped across her eyes in absence of her missing hair pin. "I liked the other night, too."

He grinned, fingers slipping beneath the back of her neck as she looked up at him, her eyes dropping to his lips as he pulled her closer. "So did I."

She leaned in to kiss him, her hand moving from her knee to follow his hand up his arm, fingers tightening across the tattoos across his upper arm below the t-shirt sleeve. Her eager response to the kiss was tempered by the recent problems of the last few days, until his arm left her knee to slip around her waist, a swift movement that pulled her close to his chest.

She let her mouth follow his lead, his warm touch tender, something that surprised her, formerly believing his outward appearance indicative of a coarser nature inside. He'd proven her wrong, on several levels in ways she found exciting. Even without previous vast experience, she knew the strong arms around her weren't those of a schoolboy or like-aged peer.

The fingers of her hand on his chest slid up to his collar, slipping around his neck where she knew the black lines curved to the nape of his neck, a movement that was less clumsy than she'd expected as her elbow angled across his shoulder.

A sudden thumping on the floor made them both draw back, eyes opening by the second thump.

Her hazel eyes were wide on his, fingers curling tight against his neck. "Are we too noisy?"

He grinned, planting a quick, rough kiss on her lips. "Not yet. This morning she said she wanted me to move out another tenant. I guess it's time." He stood up and brought her with him, a giggle escaping her at the swift movement, his arm still tight around her waist. "What time will you be home later?"

"By five. It gets dark so early now." She smiled more as his hand pushed her hair over her shoulder, falling through the strands slowly.

"I'll walk you to Tatsuki's house."

"That's okay. Tanaka-san probably expects you now."

He nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "You're sure? I can make excuses to Tanaka-san."

She shook her head, standing taller to kiss the corner of his mouth, sighing as his arm tightened around her. "I'll be fine."

* * *

At the edge of Tatsuki's neighborhood two figures watched the slender form of an auburn-haired girl make her way quickly through the chilly sunny afternoon streets, her steps quick, her guard wary, but still unaware of them. She hugged her coat close as a gust of wind blew through the bare tree branches.

Loly's lips curled into a sneer as she watched, small hands balling into fists as the wind flapped her braids around her face. She leaped to the far side of the four story building. Her foot was on the rooftop edge side as her eyes fastened on her target below. "Now, Menoly!"

She was nearly off the roof before Menoly reached her. Her hand closed in a bruising grip around her partner's shoulder, a quick snap that sent the dark-haired girl into the short chimney pipe behind her.

"What're you doing?!" Loly bit out, surprise overwhelming her anticipation as she got to her feet. "She's right down there. We haven't seen her all week! Now's my chance!"

"Don't do it," Menoly said, placing herself between the edge and her infuriated friend. She chanced a look to Orihime below as she made a turn on the sidewalk and disappeared from view among the side streets. "We have other priorities."

Loly's fingers clutched at the tanto at her waist as she made another lunge for the roof side.

"No!" Menoly tackled her, cautious of the poisoned blade edge as they rolled a few times, stopping when Loly's back hit an exhaust pipe. "Save it for later!"

Loly tried to fight her off, bringing one knee against the other girl's chest when she straddled her ribs, heaving her to within arm's reach. "She's mine, Menoly! What's your problem? You've --"

Menoly shoved her forearm down, braced it against Loly's neck until the girl's face strained in shock. "He'll kill us! Again and again and again, you idiot!" she shrieked, the wind forcing her words back into her throat. "What do you think Grimmjow was doing that day in the alley?"

Loly's face contorted into confusion. "I can't remember anything of that day. It's all blank, just fuzzy, blurry hell, Menoly." She fidgeted, failing to unseat the other girl from off her. "That's what he wanted? You never told me!"

Menoly sat back on her, debating her few options. "Later, okay? It's not time now."

Loly glowered at her. "You're working with him."

"I'm trying to save our asses."

"Let me up." When Menoly didn't move, Loly shoved her palm into her chin, only to have her arm knocked away. "Let me up!"

"Leave her alone for now," Menoly said, one knee pinning the hand with the tanto down. "Say it, Loly."

"She's right down there," Loly said, glare shifting to the rooftop edge. "It would be so easy. She can't take both of us. She's alone. Hell, she probably won't even fight back. Passive bitch."

"Not yet. We'll get to her later."

"He's not around. He'll never know."

"He'll know. Don't chance it."

Loly made a guttural sigh, glaring at the fear in Menoly's face. "All right. Later. Get the hell off me."

Orihime wasn't aware of the struggle on the rooftop behind her, nor of the tall figure watching her move along the final section of neighborhood to Tatsuki's house just above the coniferous trees across the street. She didn't sense the cold in her back as other times, what little of the telltale chill lost among the sharp October wind despite the sunny skies.

She had no clue he was near until Grimmjow dropped down before her half a block away at the corner. Her steps immediately halted mid stride, her hand flinging to her remaining hair pin at his sudden appearance near the phone booth ahead at the sidewalk turn. She took a stumbling step back, a mixture of fear and anger burning through her as she saw his hand close into a tighter fist at his side.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, her eyes locked on his, his dark expression clear to her even with the distance. His hand moved to the nearby newspaper stand's top, pausing and opening for a mere second, before he sprung back to the opposite building's rooftop six floors up.

Orihime hesitated only seconds before dashing to the newspaper stand, dodging the few other people on the sidewalk in front of her, calling hasty apologies as she went.

She stopped short at the paper box, eyes searching the top, before a smile broke across her face. Her coveted hair pin lay alone, seemingly smaller, frailer than she recalled.

She gently picked it up, fingers feeling for damage of the delicate petals, the familiar design intact, seeming dearer than ever before. For a long moment she studied it, finding no damage, the petals unbent, the lacquer unchipped. Her fingers closed carefully around it tightly.

She looked to where she'd seen Grimmjow leap, gaze scanning the roof edge. There was no sign of the Espada.

With a deep sigh she clutched her fist to her chest, her eyes still roving the rooftops until a small voice grumbled a complaint at her.

"Let off!" Tsubaki barked mutedly from her grip.

She slowly opened her hand, smiling at the male power sprite's scowl as he sprung forth, looking more miffed than usual.

She gave him a wider smile. "Hi, Tsubaki!"

"It's about time, girl!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story._


	25. Undone

The next day found a light frost on the ground, a thin white-gray that covered the sidewalks and evergreen shrubs until it was burnt off by the timid sun. It was the coldest morning yet, but it didn't keep Orihime from running her errands. She finished her bit of shopping, finding that she was merely spending the day until she was to meet Renji at his place that afternoon.

Mrs. Tanaka had used most of his afternoon the day before and required him back that evening for a problem with a leaky sink, which had taken up most his remaining time, and Orihime was eager to make up for the lost time. His thirty day gigai test was slipping away, and she acutely felt the days passing as her free week from school progressed.

She came around the back of the alley along the fence to Mrs. Tanaka's backyard where the staircases to the upper apartments laced the rear of the building, surprised to see the aging woman's short form at the storage shed.

"Hi," she said loudly, bowing to the landlady that nodded to her as she moved small stoneware planters on an exterior stand, dumping water out of a few.

"If you're after Abarai-san, he's gone," the woman called, coughing, squinting at her in the bright sunlight. She wiped her mouth with an edge of the scarf draped around her shoulders, her neck seeming to disappear in the thick material.

Orihime stopped abruptly as her first boot set on the lowest stair step. "He's gone?" She blinked quickly, glancing at Urahara's shop rooftop that peeked over the fence. "Gone, as in --"

"With that orange-haired boy," Mrs. Tanaka said, clearing her raspy throat, waving a hand to her. "Go on in if it's open. Too cold to wait outside."

The relief that rushed Orihime surprised her. "Oh, Kurosaki-kun. Okay. Thanks!" She continued up the staircase, pulling her furred collar closer around her throat against the stiff breeze. The old woman's words had startled her more than she thought they should have. "I shouldn't have thought _gone_ so quickly," she mumbled to herself as she reached the small landing at the top.

She glanced down at the woman who was still rearranging the pots, one hand holding her scarf over her mouth. Orihime bit her lip, just a little, turning her back to the woman as she tried the door to the apartment. It was locked, and she slipped her hand in her pocket, blushing a bit as she found the spare key Renji had given her.

She unlocked the door, entering the quiet apartment quickly before Mrs. Tanaka could see her. She wasn't sure why she felt awkward about letting herself in if the landlady was watching. She shut the door behind her, eyes growing accustomed to the dimmer light of the room. She slipped off her boots, knowing Renji was absent even without Mrs. Tanaka's aid.

She loosened her coat, smiling at the faint scent she associated with him. There wasn't much to prove Renji lived there, or anyone at all, she thought, looking around. The smell of him, that subtle hint of aftershave was almost all there was. On the futon was a pullover, the navy blue one, and on the counter she could see a coffee mug. That was it.

She wasn't sure if it was him, or just the shinigami style; sparse, nothing too permanent. She took off her coat and laid it on the edge of the futon, wondering where Renji had gone with Ichigo. She figured it was something related to Hollows.

Or Rukia.

She sighed, one hand pushing her hair over her shoulder, pleased at having both her hair pins back. She knew not much brought Renji and Ichigo together like the petite shinigami. Rukia Kuchiki had brought all of Soul Society to its knees when her life had been unjustly threatened.

Orihime tried not to let the long-buried envy seep into her mind. Rukia was important to a lot of people, and dear to a few. Even her brother had finally begun to act the role of older brother. So had Renji, and Orihime was especially glad for that.

The kitchen was empty, bare of what she considered the necessities. "Not even a cookie jar," she mused aloud. She was tempted to get him one. Maybe something with a monkey on it.

She shook her head. Too silly.

With a sheepish glance to the door, she went to the bathroom, hovering just at the doorway, seeing nothing that would indicate the room had been used recently save a half a bar of soap on the shower dish suction-cupped to the wall. She turned to look at his bedroom -- in his bedroom, as he had no door.

She took a hesitant step in, smiling at the sense of proximity to him she felt there that won out over the twinge of guilt. The futon was made, rather the thick brown jersey comforter passably straightened beneath a single pillow in a blue plaid case. She fought off the urge to pick it up, uncertain what such an action would lend.

Instead she went to the window where the lone tan curtain was swagged to one side, hooked over a plain nail driven into the white wall. Urahara's shop backyard was visible over the fence, her vantage point showing Ururu and Jinta trying to coax a squirrel from a tree trunk with a piece of pocky.

Orihime laughed to herself. The two children could get along if no one was watching, she decided.

A noise from the other room made her spin to face the doorway, followed by footfalls. The steps were light, barely heard, and Orihime guessed at who it could be even before Rukia looked into the bedroom.

Her violet eyes grew large when she saw Orihime. "Hi, Orihime," she said, smiling quickly. "You're already here."

"Hi, Rukia." Orihime returned a smile, flushing a little at being caught anywhere. "I was just, well, looking at Urahara-san's shop."

Rukia nodded and joined her at the window, gaze resting on the children. "Renji said you'd probably be here soon. He and Ichigo got called out --" She shook her head, wiping the black strand of hair out of her eyes that fell across her face. "No one called them, Orihime, but they went to back-up a few from Twelfth when a group of Hollows showed up on the other side of town. Nasty bunch, sounds like."

Orihime nodded, trouble leasing her eyes. "I hope they're careful."

"They will be."

They watched the squirrel switch its bushy tail, black eyes intent on the pocky the children offered, tempted.

"They sent me off," Rukia said with a huff, crossing her arms over her thin chest over a coat that was too large on her. "Like I'm a probationary or something."

"They just don't want you to get hurt," Orihime said, smiling hopefully, nodding when Rukia looked to her. "They care."

Rukia tried to give her an indifferent look, but it came across as half-hearted. "I know, but with them and my brother _caring_ so much sometimes it gets in the way of getting anything done. Even my Captain has had me step down from assisting for back-up this time."

Orihime nodded, hearing more than Rukia was putting into words. "It's different now." She didn't continue her original thought, eyes dropping to the worn wooden flooring. Her gaze went back out the window.

When Orihime left off speaking Rukia put a hand to the taller girl's arm, smiling. "As long as they're gone, let's get hot cocoa." She lifted an eyebrow when more of a smile came to Orihime's face.

The smile turned less genuine. "He won't be here much longer. After the testing is done."

Rukia caught on to what Orihime wasn't saying. "Well, he has to go back to Soul Society," she said, searching for an emotion she seldom used. "He'll be back. Not for weeks on end like..." It wasn't the right thing to say, and she realized it too late. "He'll ... he'll be back."

Orihime made herself smile. "I know."

Rukia wished she'd said something different, something more hopeful. "He'll find a way to come back. He's stubborn like that."

The truth of the statement made Orihime smile wider. "I hope so."

Rukia nodded. "I'd say we could go through his things while they're gone, just a little snooping, but he doesn't have anything in the place to _go through_. It's so empty here." She glanced around the room, spotting the photo of Orihime on the simple nightstand by the futon. "Except your --"

"They're back," Orihime said suddenly, grabbing Rukia's arm in hold that jolted the smaller girl. She pointed out the window into Urahara's yard. "It looks like Twelfth, too. It doesn't look good ..." she caught the edge of her bottom lip with her teeth, frowning. "I don't know. _Maybe_ it's good."

Rukia stood closer to her to see over the fence.

Three members of Twelfth Division accompanied Renji and Ichigo to the back door of the shop, a few smaller forms in ragged schoolgirl uniforms over the backs of two of their shoulders.

Rukia looked to Orihime, who was paling at the sight of Loly and Menoly.

"Let's go," Rukia said.

Orihime and Rukia let themselves in the back door of Urahara's shop moments later, following the sound of mostly male voices ahead down the hall. The shop was warm, a few of the doors open to storage rooms, and Orihime's attention snapped to where Renji's gigai was slouched in a corner of a darkened room among the wooden boxes. Even after being privy to various gigais and their disposal at a moment's notice, the lifeless forms still sometimes gave her a start when discarded.

" ... stay dead this time," Ukaru was saying as the two girls caught up to the conversation in the room ahead. "Captain Kurotsuchi wants them back as soon as possible."

Renji, Ichigo, Urahara, Ukaru, and two other members of Twelfth Division were standing in a circle in the room. They looked to Orihime and Rukia as they looked in the open doorway. Urahara nodded to them, his smile tempered by the matter at hand.

"Come in, girls," he said, waving a hand to them. "Quite the catch today."

Renji's demeanor relaxed only slightly as Orihime entered the room with Rukia, his eyes on her recently returned hair pin. She took a few steps toward him as Ichigo watched carefully, his usual scowl easing. Ukaru stood with his hands on his hips, eyes tarrying on Orihime's figure in spots that made Renji step in front of her to block most of the fourth seat's view. The other two Twelfth members were ones Orihime hadn't seen before, a slightly built man who looked no older than a year-out academy graduate, and a thin woman who appeared almost angry to be there.

Orihime did her standard perusal of the shinigami, her skills as a healer making injuries her first priority whenever Hollows had been encountered. She saw no wounds on anyone as she stood nearer to Renji, who shifted more in front of her when the younger man from Twelfth tried to get a better look at her.

"Looks like the Arrancar problem is over," Urahara said, hand in his coat pocket, searching for his fan. "They've been slain, and are now in a storage room until Tessai returns from the market to put them under a binding spell. Until then, they should remain dead. A few hours shouldn't matter much."

"What about the Hollows?" Rukia asked.

"All taken care of," Renji said.

"Told you we didn't need you," Ichigo joked, poking her side with a finger until she gave him a stern look.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone," she said almost inaudible for anyone except for him and Orihime to hear.

"Wouldn't have this problem if someone hadn't blessed them with perpetual resurrection," Ukaru grunted, eyes hardening on Orihime.

She frowned, stepping back as Renji intervened.

"You're out of line, Ukaru," he warned. "Save it --"

"If it weren't for her we wouldn't have to keep cleaning up the streets," Ukaru said, pointing a finger at Orihime.

"Leave her alone," Ichigo said as Renji started to speak.

Ukaru shook his head, crossing his arms as Urahara found his fan and opened it with a loud snap. "No harm done -- not much, anyway," the shopkeeper said, his customary grin trying to disarm the situation rising, "and she's not to blame for your captain sending untested shinigami into battle."

The remark struck raw with Ukaru. He rose to his full height, taking a step toward Urahara. "I'll have you know this is our specialty," he said, taking a deep breath to expel the Twelfth Division mission statement.

"I'm leaving now," Rukia said in a lower tone to Orihime, then turned to Ichigo. "See you?"

He nodded, following her out of the room. "You _are_ out of bounds," he threw back to Ukaru as he followed Rukia out.

The officer sent a menacing look to Orihime, who cringed against the doorframe. "She's the one we should have on the lab exam table," he said, leering look wandering over her again. "Celled up where she can be studied like the --"

"Shut up!" Renji's hand grabbed the fellow shinigami's robe in a fist, shoving him to the opposite wall that knocked the breath out of him. "Keep it to yourself! Another word and --"

"Gentlemen, please," Urahara said, the fan flicking before his face as he chuckled uneasily. "Please. I think we'd best dismiss the Living before we throw down any challenges."

He turned to Orihime, who had moved to the doorway, half out of it as the tension grew thick between the men. "It's best you wait outside. Maybe in Tessai's kitchen? I think he was having sweet bean buns cool for the kiddies."

For the first time Orihime didn't like the mention of her favorite sweet. She looked from Renji glowering at Ukaru to the other Twelfth Division members.

They hated her. All of them. Except Renji.

They held her responsible.

She nodded, unable to voice the small answer she wanted to make.

She slipped out of the room, meeting Renji's longing gaze only briefly.

She leaned against the wall in the hall as the door was shut quickly by the younger man from Twelfth.

"Listen, asshole, she's not to blame," Renji's voice was still audible despite the door being shut.

Orihime pressed her back firmly to the wall, as if to block out the words coursing through her mind. Ukaru's voice was too clear.

"She's unleashed an unknown hell on the Living, Abarai," he said cuttingly. "Nothing like what we've seen before. Arrancar are one thing; that Espada is another."

"You should've taken him down before this," Renji countered, his tone tight, barely controlled. "Twelfth is in charge of the town. Damn your research and do your job!"

"You calling out our Captain?"

Orihime resisted the urge to sink to her knees against the wall, ethical conscience flagging as she considered her recent actions from Soul Society's view.

Again.

"Aiding the enemy, playing like she was god," Ukaru said bitingly. "Traitor."

A scuffle ensued, a wooden chair or crate broken against the wall.

"Gentlemen," Urahara insisted, his tone more than hinting. "I think --"

The sharp metal sound of a sword being drawn was heard, followed by another drawn.

"Ah, no need for that," Urahara's tone was more urgent. "Put it away, Ukaru, Abarai. Renji, please."

Orihime hugged her coat closer, a trembling beginning in her knees as she tightened her fingers over her elbows.

Traitor.

Not since the War had anyone pinned the word on her. Then it had been Captain Soi Fon. Captain Unohana, who had simply given her an exhaustive physical, had made it a strict rule in her unit that no one was to use the term, for which Orihime was glad while she had been examined. Even Captain Kurotsuchi had been less invasive in his study, although verbally thorough.

Was it true?

She'd asked herself the question too many times. Perhaps ... a little?

Unmeaningfully. Unknowingly. Without intention.

She moved down the hall, barely aware of Rukia and Ichigo's voices on the sunny back porch of the shop, the shinigami saying her goodbyes to her Living lover, her voice low, a softness evident that was usually not present.

Orihime unintentionally blocked the voices, both male and female, as she looked into the darkened storage room where Renji's gigai was. Her gaze shifted to the opposite side of the hall, into a room also dark, empty of anything but a few crumpled bodies by the larger truck door that the shop seldom used for deliveries.

Loly and Menoly lay in a heap, the black-haired girl prone, face against the floor. Menoly was beside her, on her side, blue hair mangled in blood, mouth gaping open.

Orihime looked in at them for a long moment, her work before her, the ever-resuscitated forms waiting for movement to be restored once again.

_Ukaru was right,_ she thought. In his most basic premise, he was right. She was responsible.

She went into the room, the meager light behind her from the hall illuminating little of the Arrancars forms. She knelt, stretching out her hands over the figures, summoning Shuno and Ayame with unvoiced movements of her lips.

The silent kotodama breathed from her, the bubble surrounding both forms, Orihime's intention focused strongly on the task. She'd never tried to influence events alone, not without it involving healing.

_-- A fellow power-wielder of time and space manipulation --_

The words surged through her mind. Her concentration increased, frowning at the bodies.

-- _You did what you had to _-- Renji had said

She scowled more over the still forms, fingers tensing on her task at hand.

-- _playing like she was god_ -- the words piqued her moral psyche, bringing a twinge of physical pain.

-- _Rest up, love_ --

All senses nearly halted. The words weren't ones she had willingly summoned, coming from somewhere back in her mindframe that was unavailable to her conscious mind.

Her hands stilled, pausing, hovering over the unmoving Arrancar.

It was Renji's voice.

The words ones she'd never heard him utter.

Something from her imagination, she thought.

A body beneath her hands, inside the protective bubble, moved slightly. Menoly shifted, a snapping sound as one hand went to her side, the other to her temple, a sharp expression of pain claiming her face, green eyes flying open in shock.

An agonizing cry escaped the Arrancar girl, an abrupt sound that garnered immediate attention from the men arguing within the shop.

Orihime frowned, hands stiffening over the bubble as she leaned over it, legs braced as the Arrancar beneath stirred.

Renji looked in the doorway behind her, for a moment bewildered at what Orihime was doing. She was hunched over the pair of Arrancar, hands stretched in healing, her focus intent on the injured beings before her.

Even without speaking he had a devastating feeling what she was doing. "Orihime, what are ..."

She frowned over the bodies, oblivious to his words.

Menoly tried to rise to her elbow, her torso curling over her wounded ribs, a cry of absolute pain breaking from her. "Ughh!"

Renji rushed into the room, one hand gripping Orihime's shoulder. "Orihime!"

"I can do it, Renji," she said softly, eyes hardening on Menoly as the Arrancar looked up at them.

Her gaze was unfocused and she shook her head, mind taking in the dark room and auburn haired girl concentrating on taking her back to a time she was still mortal. She looked around hastily, eyes resting on the delivery door, one hand on the joint of her leg at her hip as a ripping pain coursed through it.

"Stop it! Stop it, please!" Menoly gave another cry, trying to move away from Orihime, her other hand clutching Loly's dead form by a wrist.

Renji's hands closed over Orihime's shoulders, shaking gently. "Break it off, Orihime," he said, her arms beginning to tremble beneath his hold, fatigue at the effort setting in over her.

"I can undo it," she said lowly, fingers quivering as she summoned the last of her strength into her powers. "I think she's close."

Menoly scooted her good foot under her and heaved herself up onto her undamaged leg, her hand still on Loly's limp wrist. She looked down at the dead girl. "Get up! Get up before she kills us!"

"Ah, Miss Inoue," Urahara said, entering the room with the three members of Twelfth Division following him, surprised at what he was witnessing, "you should let off. It's too much for you."

"I can do it," she mumbled, stepping closer as Menoly moved against the back of the bubble barrier, tugging at Loly's unresponsive form.

"Stop it!" Menoly dropped Loly's arm, staggering on her good leg, dragging her left leg that refused to bear her weight. Her eyes were wide on the shinigami as they advanced on Orihime.

Renji put an arm out as Ukaru reached for Orihime's shoulder. "Back off, Ukaru. You're not part of this."

The trembling in her hands became too much for Orihime, the bubble suddenly dissipating as the healing spirits were exhausted, fleeing quickly to the safety of their hair pin. She put a hand to the hair clip, dizziness rushing her.

Renji's arm came around her waist as she slumped, nearly falling from the release of power.

Menoly stumbled back at the bubble's dissolving, eyes going to Loly for a flash of a second. She turned and bolted for the door, flinging it open and darting out it as fast as she could move while still injured.

Ukaru and his younger squad members ran after her, the fourth seat shouting orders as they went.

Orihime leaned against Renji, mostly for support, mind swirling from the sapping strength the reversal had taken. "It was easier than I thought," she said, clearing her throat, looking up to Renji. "It's possible."

He nodded, eyes settling on her lips as she smiled a little. "It's too much."

"It's far too much," Urahara added, stepping around them to look at Loly's dead body. "Dangerous, too, attempting both at once, and without knowing precisely where you are in the time regression."

She looked to him and nodded, but there was no apology in her expression. "It was easier than I thought, Urahara-san. Menoly was stronger, but I don't think she has any reviving abilities now. She's now where she was when Grimmjow killed her. And Loly," she said, glancing at the girl at their feet, "she's not getting up again."

Renji's arm tightened at her waist. "Don't listen to Ukaru," he said. "He's looking to lay blame."

Urahara crouched by the body of Loly, turning over the girl's arm, seeing no response. "I've got one table open in the basement, Renji. Can you put her down there for me?"

Renji looked to Orihime as she stood straighter. "You all right?"

She nodded, smiling at him, watching his eyes move from either of the pins in her hair. "I'm fine now."

He nodded and stooped to the Arrancar, his eyes flicking to the glass jar in a corner of the room that had half a dozen decanting reeds sticking out the open top. He looked to Urahara, suspicion in his tone when he spoke. "Get what you needed?"

The fan opened wide before the shopkeeper's face as he returned Renji's stare across the prone body. "Most everything."

Orihime clasped her hands before her as Renji picked up the lifeless body of Loly and slung it over his shoulder and left the room. She glanced at the jar and then to Urahara as he stood up.

"Your abilities are amazing, Miss Orihime," he said, smile hidden by the fan. "I'd still like to study them in detail, once all this Espada business is behind us."

She nodded. "I want to help."

"Good. Tessai will sit in more with us, I think. He'll be fascinated to learn what you're capable of." It took a great effort for him not to collect his sample reeds immediately, instead offering more of a smile to her. "Were you able to determine the precise moment of reversing their initial deaths from Hueco Mundo?"

She shook her head, sighing. "But I could feel it fluctuate, the spiritual pressure dimming. It was a little cloudy, I guess because there were two, but not as difficult as I first thought it would be."

She turned as Renji reentered the room, his attention sharp on Urahara.

"Will you be around to talk with Tessai later, Miss Orihime?" the shopkeeper asked, bringing a grunt from the shinigami.

"Well, I..." she looked to Renji, hoping for a hint as to her afternoon.

"She's got plans today. Maybe tomorrow?" he said.

She nodded again. "Tomorrow would be better."

Urahara contented himself with that, eager to attend his reeds. "I'll see you then, Miss Orihime."

Orihime was willing to feel the fresh air again on her face after the stuffy smell of death and confines of the storage room as she and Renji exited the back door of the shop. His hand was firm on hers as they made their way out the rear gate and into Mrs. Tanaka's yard, a lift about her spirits that had been absent since she'd resurrected Grimmjow.

"I have plans today?" she asked Renji as they crossed the small back yard in the cold of the bright day.

He grinned at her smile, planting a kiss on her cheek before escorting her ahead of him on the staircase to the third level apartment, watching her hair shine copper in the sun. "I have plans for you."

She turned on the fourth step to look at him, the height bringing her nearly eyelevel with him. "Oh? Something interesting?" she asked, feeling her cheeks warm despite the chilly air, anticipating his answer.

He put a hand on either side of the staircase rails, fingers covering hers there, his grin broadening at the hint of honeysuckle pervading her. "Maybe."

A sparkle glint her eyes, her nod slight.

"Unless you're spent after that reversal on the Arrancars."

She kissed him quickly. "Nothing a hot cocoa won't fix." She turned swiftly as he leaned in to kiss her more, skipping up the stairs with a giggle. "Come on!"

Renji chuckled, following.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story._


	26. End to Infinity

Menoly pushed herself to make it as far as she could in the late afternoon sun before she stopped in a side alley deeper in Karakura Town. She had to stop, her unseen injuries taking their toll on her strength. Her leg was throbbing, barely holding her when she forced her weight onto it, her left side of ribs still crushed internally although the flesh was outwardly intact.

An excruciating headache blazed through the right of her skull, the usual dark in that side of her head where her mask covered her eye an intense black pain. She knew the basics of what had happened, even if she couldn't remember any of the recent time since Orihime's time regression of her injuries.

She knew she was past death, back to the limbo of time between Grimmjow inflicting her injuries that resulted in her first death and the healing that Orihime had performed shortly afterward in Hueco Mundo.

Menoly knew what it meant even if her memory of the recent past was clouded. In fact, all she could remember clearly was something about Aizen banning her and Loly to the Living World until they could prove their worth and regain their lapsed powers. The time shortly before her initial resurrection was a blur, brief glimpses of Orihime's torn hair and bruised face in the stark white of the room under her and Loly's attack, followed by Grimmjow busting in the wall at the girl's room of the palace.

She clenched her teeth against the pain branching out through her whole body with increasing speed, her right hand numbingly cold. She also recalled that Grimmjow was in the Living World.

She pushed herself to stumble on in the alley cluttered with empty boxes and crates awaiting disposal outside the back doors of small businesses, the events of Urahara's shop simply confusion to her, but not pertinent at the moment. All that mattered now was the three shinigamis pursuing her.

She made her way down the alley, half dragging her leg that refused cooperation, her breath coming labored under the strain of only one lung. She spotted a dark shadowed area among the boxes in the alley as Ukaru's commands to his underlings behind her grew louder.

Pulling away the piles of garbage and newspaper with her paralyzed right hand -- the only one that would work at all now -- Menoly crawled into the small enclave against the wall of the building behind the boxes, shutting down as much spiritual pressure as she could to avoid detection, conserving her strength for the task of breathing. Her movements had grown slower, feeble as her right arm grew increasingly lethargic.

She hunkered back against the brick wall, her short skirt allowing the cold air on her legs until she shivered. For several moments the shinigamis searched for her while Menoly held her gasping breath, fighting the shaking that threatened to take hold of her teeth and body.

After what seemed like hours the shinigamis left the area and moved on, Ukaru's shouts growing more distant and fading completely.

Just as she was about to exhale a trembling sigh of relief, a different more powerful reiatsu overwhelmed her diminished senses.

Grimmjow ripped away the boxes under which she cowered, bringing a startled cry from her mixed with pain. His menacing scowl only magnified as he grabbed her around the blouse's collar, the bow tied at her throat caught up in his hand.

He wrenched her to her feet as she shrieked, making her stand on her good leg. "What's wrong with you? Hiding?!" He pushed to the wall, hearing the breath escape her in a choking sound. "Where's Loly?"

She shook her head, prying at his hand with her right only in clumsy efforts. "She's gone. She's ... gone for..."

His grip tightened on her shirt as she tried to answer quickly. "Where?"

She coughed as his searching gaze sharpened on her. "She's dead."

His thorough scrutiny calculated her appearance compared to her diminished reiatsu that barely rippled around her. "You're not injured. What's wrong with you? Where's Loly?"

Menoly summoned her lagging strength and growled at him as she put one hand to her throbbing temple, barely feeling the short blue hair there dry and soft, the blood from her earlier injuries from Ukaru now vanished, only the invisible wounds inflicted by Grimmjow from a year ago now incapacitating her. "Dead, you idiot! Didn't you hear me?!" She coughed as his grip on her blouse tightened. "Dead to stay!"

Grimmjow's eyes opened wide at that. "Liar!" He threw her against the wall opposite the alley, the block surface crushing her spine on impact. "You're immortal, remember?"

She crumpled to the ground in a heap, mask cracking at the force. She shook her head slightly as he crossed the alley. "You idiot," she sputtered through the blood filling her good lung. "I told you ... she's dead!"

The last words came out with a splatter of blood onto her blouse.

Grimmjow chuckled at her concern. "You're immortal, Menoly." He crouched before her as she made an effort to pull herself back to the wall from him, but her limbs wouldn't move. "_I'm_ immortal."

Menoly's eye didn't focus on him as he said it, the last of her life seeping from her. "Idiot," she murmured with her final breath as she tried to laugh. "Idiot..."

Grimmjow watched as she died, seeing her head slump to the side. She remained unmoving for a moment as he waited for her automatic revival, as he had the other times after repeatedly killing her.

One hand reached to his katana hilt in impatience. He knew it could take a while, depending on how long it took to kill her. He'd learned that last time. This time he watched with new interest, trying to note it for his own future resurrections, committing to memory the period of vulnerability before resurrection, how long it may last, other particulars.

Instead the right side of her face caved in, her right hand shriveling into a jagged nub, while at the same time her left ribcage disintegrated, leaving a cavernous hole that made her upper torso fall onto the ground against the wall.

Grimmjow stood up, eyes riveted on Menoly's collapsing form. He knew the injuries, recognized them from slaying her over a year ago in Orihime's room. Something in them had a finality that made him suspicious.

"Menoly," he said, more out of curiosity than anything else. Growing distrust eclipsed mere curiosity as he drew his sword and poked her remaining shoulder. She didn't move. With the tip of the blade he moved what was left of her head, half of her face staring vacantly at him.

Grimmjow stepped back, replaying her few words and final insult to him.

Since their time in the Living World he'd never seen Loly and Menoly separated, never more than a few yards apart, never one alone, even in death.

He waited half an hour, watching the corpse with blue hair similar to his own, waiting, his frustration and disquiet growing. It wasn't until she remained dead without a hint at reviving for a full three hours that Grimmjow had to admit it to himself.

Whatever Orihime Inoue had imparted on him _may_ be provisional. Maybe there were a limited number of resurrections that could be used. But how many?

He frowned at the Arrancar's corpse. He'd returned the hair pin too soon. She wasn't the god he thought she could be.

Either that, or she could further manipulate her resurrection work, retract it, perhaps at will or perhaps without realizing it. Maybe it wasn't permanent.

He wanted to know which it was.

All promises were off, even if he'd meant to keep them at the time he made them.

Grimmjow leaped to the top of the five story building as early evening closed in on the town, leaving the form in the alley below.

His promise to the red-haired shinigami was definitely off.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _This chapter is too short, but it doesn't fit with the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story._


	27. Snowflake

Renji's apartment was warmer than usual with Mrs. Tanaka and his neighbor to the inside wall having portable heaters on high to counteract the chilly late afternoon, warmer even than when Orihime and Rukia had been there earlier that day. The refrigerator that kept only cool temperatures was already struggling against the heat sources as Renji found a bottle of raspberry soda for Orihime and a beer for himself. He'd left her alone in the small apartment for a few moments to collect him gigai from Urahara's shop, taking the short time to touch base with Tessai who'd returned from the market, news of the reversal surprising the former Kido master.

"It's too warm for cocoa in here," Orihime said, standing at the counter in the sink's overhead light as the sun headed for the west early as Renji opened both bottles.

He nodded, handing her the soda. "Do you want a glass for that?"

She shook her head. "Thanks."

From the apartment below the scratch of a record needle was heard, followed by the beginning strains of an enka song. Mrs. Tanaka's shaky treble of singing rose to blend with the song.

"Tessai-san wants to speak with you tomorrow along with Urahara-san," he said, leaning against the counter beside her. "Do you feel up to it?"

She nodded willingly, sipping the soda. "I don't know if I can answer any of their questions, Renji, but I'll try."

He let his arm rest around her back, hand at the counter edge by the hip of her jeans as she looked to him. "You know that by undoing their resurrections there'll be all kinds of questions from Twelfth Division now," he said, tempering his tone so the words wouldn't seem as upsetting. No one, Living or Soul Reaper, wanted more attention from Captain Kurotsuchi than absolutely necessary. "But don't worry about Ukaru. Captain Kurotsuchi doesn't hold him in very high regard. Most everyone knows Ukaru is bluster and boasting."

She sighed, leaning against his arm, smiling more at the warmth at his side. "I'm just glad it worked. I wish I knew more precisely where in time Loly and Menoly were, but it wasn't clear. Maybe because there were two of them."

He nodded, watching the slight pout turn her lips. "You should have told us what you were doing, Orihime. It's too dangerous to attempt something like that alone." He pulled his arm to her side firmly, kissing the top of her head. "Come on. I've got your favorite noodle take-out in the 'frig. We'll eat while we watch the news."

She looked at him with slight confusion, but nodded as he grinned and kissed her cheek roughly.

"The news?" she asked as he pulled her to the futon before the small television set perched on a milk crate. "I didn't know you were so concerned with current events, Renji."

"A few of them." He handed her his beer and went back into the small kitchen area and rummaged through the refrigerator.

She balanced the bottle on her knee and turned, hooking her arm behind the futon back to watch him. "I can get the plates set up."

"You sit there and be impressed with my presentation skills," he said, setting two foam containers of noodle dishes on the counter before looking through the canister on the counter for matching chopsticks.

She watched him carry the take-out containers, two pair of chopsticks and three bottles of assorted sauces in to where she sat. After a few moments of arranging the take-out for easier dining and adding their choice of sauces, he found the remote control under the futon and flicked on the small television.

For the first forty-five minutes the news was just that, news from the local areas, primarily Karakura Town civil councils, and then it switched to the broader Tokyo events. They'd finished eating by the time the clock on the wall was closing in on eight o'clock, the early nightfall making it seem much later.

She set her near empty bottle of soda on the floor and leaned to Renji's side as his arm draped along her shoulders, her legs curling to her side, feet at the edge of the futon cushion as the last segment of news came on the television.

She instinctively hooked the tips of her fingers over the edge of his jeans pocket nearest her, a subconscious habit that had formed the last few days whenever she sat beside him, not realizing it until he'd noticed the day before at her place when she'd done it, prompting him to grin and bring a blush to her face.

"Hey, that's the competition," she said, pointing with her free hand as shots from the district-wide amateur Autumn Fashions Showcase competition flashed on the screen.

"Yup. Maybe they'll show you and your crafts club."

She looked to him quickly, fingers tensing at the pocket edge. "You knew?"

He grinned at the smile creeping over her face. "Yeah, I saw Ishida in town earlier today. He said he was going to tell you, but I told him I wanted to." His arm tightened over her shoulder at her look of surprise. "I thought maybe you knew already."

She shook her head, looking back to the television as a reporter walked among the lines of competitors where the judges were scrutinizing the workmanship of the entries. She found herself holding her breath as the images flicked again even though she knew the outcome of the judging as the screen flashed to the final three dresses with their winning rosettes attached to the hangers.

"There it is," he said, scowling at the line of ornate dresses, Orihime and Ishida's work among them. "Hell, I thought they'd show the winning teams, too, not just the dresses."

She put a few fingers to her lips, giggling as the reporter spoke passionately about the budding talent of Karakura's young designers. She smiled behind her hand as the camera panned the milling crowd. "I didn't know it was filmed."

Renji sighed, turning to look at her better. "I guess its better they didn't show you on TV." He put a hand to her knee and leaned in to her smile as her fingers slipped from her face. "I don't think I want to share you with millions of viewers all across Japan."

The curve of her mouth dissolved as he pressed his lips to hers, her hand moving to his back beneath his arm, fingers at his jeans tugging. She expected the beer to be heavier on him, but it was barely there as he kissed her, the endearment deepening, sending a different warmth through her in the already warm room. He hooked his hand beneath both her knees, pulling her legs across his own, easing her prone to the cushion under the sharp crack of a creak in the futon.

Her eyes flung open at the sound, breaking the kiss.

"Don't worry about it," he said, kissing her eyes until she slowly closed them again.

"Hmm, is that something Tanaka-san is used to hearing from up here?" she asked, tease hinting her tone, an underlying curiosity behind it.

"No, not from me," he said, his hand roaming up her thigh to where her dusty pink sweater met her jeans waistband. "She's half deaf, anyway."

"It was a very loud creak," she said, eyes opening just enough to look at his fingers slowly gliding beneath her sweater, his large hand warm on her stomach. She looked to his eyes as they went to the buttons on her shirt. "They're not real, if that's what you're wondering."

He grinned, moving his hand from her skin to the top button beneath the pink satin ribbon tied in a bow at her throat. "Not real?"

"Not functional. Just for decoration."

He pulled the bow loose, frowning as it accomplished no further entry.

She giggled. "That's not real either."

He made a low growl at the closures. "None of this is functional? All just decoration?"

She nodded as he settled better over her, his weight more to bear on her as the futon creaked loudest yet.

"Damn thing," he muttered, shifting slightly, bringing another cracking sound of the metal frame.

"Too bad," she said, drawing her knee up as much as she could over his leg, the other trapped beneath him. Her fingers moved up his back as she her eyes looked to each of his. She lifted her face to kiss him, lips gentle at the side of his chin, breath soft against his skin as she spoke. "Too bad we're stuck on -- Renji!"

He stood up swiftly, then bent and pulled her over his shoulder in a quick movement as she gave a stunted shriek of surprise, interrupting herself, his arm clutched across the back of her knees as he strode into the dark bedroom. "This one's not noisy."

She stifled most of a squeal as they carefully cleared the open doorway to his dark room, pushing her hair out of her face from her upside down position over his back, hands balled in his shirt there. "Are you sure?"

He paused at the futon against the wall and lowered her to it, hands braced to either side of her, grinning as she scooted back onto the center of the thick mattress. "We can find out."

"Think so?" She knew his answer as his hands closed closer around her hips, moving up to her sweater, lifting the edges until she helped by raising her arms overhead until the pink shirt was off and tossed to the foot of the mattress.

Renji paused to look at her, climbing onto the mattress, resting on his knees to either side outside hers as she lay back and propped herself on both elbows, her stomach seeming especially concave beneath the full bosom of her lavender bra trimmed in modest lace. Even in the dim light from the kitchen he could see the slight blush on her cheeks, the start of a smile at her lips.

She leaned on one elbow to her side, using her other hand to wipe the tangle of hair from her eyes as she returned his attention. "Changing your mind?"

"Hell, no."

She drew back as he placed one hand near her shoulder and kissed her deeply, forcing her head into the mattress as his weight covered her, her arm collapsing beneath them, his hand sliding across her stomach to the closure at the front of her jeans. The pressure of his kiss turned harder, bringing an unexpected eagerness from her that matched his, her arms wrapping around his waist until a sudden ringing made them both flinch.

Renji eased up some, chest still against her bra and stomach as he reluctantly took the hand from the snap at her jeans and shifted to one hip on the mattress at her side. He pulled the Soul Society communicator from his back pants pocket and answered it, eyes on her breath rapid at her chest in the dim light as she watched him move away.

"Yeah," he said into the communicator. He suppressed a groan and sat up, turning to sit over the edge of the futon as he focused on the caller. "Yes, Vice-Captain. That's how I understood it ..."

Orihime sat up as he turned his back to her, his attention on the call. She pulled her knees under her and sat behind him, not listening in, her intention elsewhere as he nodded in response to the conversation. Even in the dark the fit of the t-shirt over his back made her smile, the black tattoos at the nape of his neck below the red ponytail, making a mischievous bend surface within her as she knelt closer to him.

He looked down as her knee settled at the side of his leg, the inner thigh of her jeans snug against the outside of his as she leaned at his back, breast barely touching the bicep of one arm as her hand brushed over his shoulder and down to the hem of his shirt. He glanced over his shoulder where she sat, the top of her head hiding her face as her fingers lifted the black material.

" ... I think that's best," she heard him say to the caller as she pulled the t-shirt up, exposing the black marks tattooed symmetrically across his back.

She'd wanted a better look at them, the last time her glimpse all too brief and her attention on other matters at the moment. Her eyes roved over the black permeating his skin, the poor light from the kitchen enough to see the designs clearly. Her hand traveled across the lowermost, following up to where his back broadened, her smile growing at the feel of the strong, smooth muscles beneath the tight skin.

She pushed the t-shirt higher, her hands anchoring it at one of his shoulders. No one had told her about this.

Tribal markings.

_Indications of accomplishment_, she had heard before, a slight jealous tone in the male voice.

_Something he'd done for himself_, the diminutive female shinigami had told her.

_You wouldn't believe the workmanship_, the other fully-bosomed female shinigami had told her when she stayed with Orihime those few days with her captain.

Renji nearly forgot to listen to Nemu's precise report on Twelfth Division's proposed procedure on their jurisdiction over the town, his focus on the gentle fingers following the flesh between the tattoos on his back. He looked to Orihime as she turned her face to him, her lips moving to his neck where the deft smell of aftershave was stronger in a long kiss that followed the marks along his skin to his jaw line, then pausing as her eyes went to his.

"I understand," he said into the communicator, Nemu's conversation filing away in his mind. He snapped the device closed and set it on the floor as Orihime sat closer, arms encircling his waist, letting her hands fall to the front of his stomach, three fingers of one hand slipping beneath the clasp at his jeans as her chin rested on his left shoulder.

"Bad news?" she asked.

"Nope. All well."

"Good."

He turned and pulled her into his arms, fingers working loose the clasp and zipper at her jeans, freeing them from her hips and legs in a few movements as she pushed the t-shirt over his head, flinging it aside as his hands moved to her back. He worked the bra clasp free and set it somewhere at the side of the futon, then carefully removed the hair pins from her hair and set them on the night stand.

His arms pulled her to the lone pillow, easing her to the mattress, kisses hard on her soft lips that molded to his own as the subtle scent of honeysuckle surrounded him, her legs seemingly longer than remembered as they wrapped around him, one foot sliding along his calf until he sat back to take off his jeans.

She smiled, fingers of one hand following up his side as he returned to her after he removed his boxers as in a swift movement before stripping off her panties to drop beside his own clothes.

"I see you're not spent," he said as she pulled him closer.

"All past," she said, dipping her head to his as he kissed her neck, following her throat, lips pausing at one of her breasts to latch onto the nipple for a moment before moving to the next as her back arched, bringing him closer, her hands wrapping around his back, one hand gripping the white headband and pulling it away before loosening and removing the hair tie that let fall his scarlet hair around her face.

He maneuvered to lie fully between her opening legs, her flesh warm, arms encompassing, driving him to sink her deep into the mattress as the enka music below drowned her muffled moans. This time she wasn't tentative to draw him nearer, her hesitation of the newness to intimacy with him surpassed by her eagerness to feel him full inside her.

His arms surrounded her, her hand reaching to him as he grew hard along her thigh, her smile lost in the sigh that left her lips when his hand pressed at her back, bringing her to him, her legs wrapped around him, lips matching the fierce kiss that encompassed hers. For a long moment she remained close, and then she pulled back a little as he pushed into her, the tip of his fully erect length entering more forcefully than the first time, bringing a sudden catch in her breath, followed by her arms gripping his back firmly, a reactionary tensing that was clenched by her internally, spontaneously reacting to him as her teeth edged along his shoulder.

For a few long moments he moved inside her, her body working with his as the scent of honeysuckle mixed with musk, hard thrusts that met the smooth muscles constricting more forcefully until both were nearly violent in nature, her arms strong around him, urging on the more powerful movements that made her call his name louder in intense moans along his neck that almost rose above the music from the apartment below.

Her fingers gathered large handfuls of red hair behind his head, pulling his face to hers at her neck in a fierce hold, his grip vice-like against her.

Orihime's subconscious failed to remind her of the neighbor, Renji's name on her lips growing louder until she felt every sense in her being rise in a moment, the sensory tract gripping him internally as her fingernails left scratching trails amidst the black tattoos he'd earned on his back, engraving memories she demanded he keep.

Her head arched over his shoulder when the intense calling surrounded them both, a shudder pulling every pleasurable sense inward, her arms as intense as the ultimate few movements he shoved into her, fingernails embedded in his back and neck.

A final gasp escaped them both as the hard muscles at his back grew taut under her hands, her fingers curling as she contracting deep inside, gripping him in sudden culmination that made her shudder.

For a long moment he remained tight inside her, feeling her fingers loosen only minutely as she clung to his back and neck, legs wrapped against him as his lips kissed a slow warm trail leisurely to her chin, her lips, one hand moving to her left breast where her heartbeat was fast against his fingers, her breath panting at his face. Her eyes opened slowly as he kissed her lips hard, slowly, her focus still clouded by the reverberations deep inside her.

He eased out of her, kissing her slower this time as she responded in kind, still breathless, hands falling more loosely at his back as he reached below them for the brown jersey comforter they'd neglected. He pulled it over them as she caught her breath, a slow smile catching her lips as he hovered over her, brushing the hair from her damp brow, grinning at her low giggle.

"Oh, Renji, I think," she said amid a slow exhale, her heartbeat rapid at his chest as she swallowed, "I think I like it like that, too. It's ... different than the first time."

He nodded, kissing her lips as she sighed, feeling her hands move up his shoulders as her legs curved back over him leisurely. "Different ways to do it, Orihime," he murmured against her cheek, one hand moving to her hair, fingers entwining in the long auburns tresses as he rose to look at her in the dim light, feeling her heartbeat still pounding against him. "But never anything you don't want."

She nodded as he lay down beside her, pursing her lips, recalling his body tight against hers. She turned to her side, leaning one knee carefully to cross his. He moved the comforter farther to their shoulders, the silken skin of her inner thigh draped at his leg as she sighed, her hand moving across his chest as her breath slowed.

"You're staying tonight," he murmured as her fingers curled against his chest. "You know that, right?"

He felt her smile curve on his skin as she nodded.

"I want to."

He stroked her hair, the soft tresses lost in his fingers as she snuggled closer, fingers gripped in the comforter at his chest.

For a few moments she lay still, content, and he with her, until he realized she was sleeping. For several moments more he listened to her soft breathing, realizing she was more exhausted from her earlier afternoon activities than he realized.

With one hand he reached to the night stand beside the futon, taking the small velvet box that had been inconspicuous in the early nightfall. He snapped it open, seeing the silver snowflake pendant glint back at him in the low light from the other room.

He'd meant to give it to her earlier. It glimmered in its bed of black velvet, a simple design that he'd found in town earlier that week.

He closed it and set it back on the stand. He pulled the comforter higher around them, feeling her body curl against his, and decided to give it to her in the morning.

* * *

**Author's Note:_ Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing this story._**

**_Happy Holidays!_**


	28. Damage

Orihime awoke the next morning to the chill air, a startling contrast to the warm bed and comforter pulled around her and Renji. She didn't move immediately, content to stay nestled against his side, his arm draped over her waist, fingers entwined over hers, her hand nearly disappearing beneath his as they rested on his chest.

She sighed slowly, moving slightly to see his face, smiling a little when she saw him still asleep, snoring lowly. For a long moment she studied his face. The first time she'd seen Renji Abarai was under duress in Soul Society, when they'd unknowingly been on the same side in their attempts to save Rukia from certain execution. His appearance had frightened her, even a little after she realized they weren't entirely enemies. She let out a shallow sigh and looked at the pulled curtain across the window where a crack of early, cold sunlight shed into the room, adding a muted glow to the otherwise semi-darkness.

She'd seen the severe looks Renji had given many people in the time since Soul Society and returning from Hueco Mundo, nothing short of venom in his glares at a few, something she never wanted to see directed at her. She liked his eyes, their deep brown depths, even when he was less than pleased, so long as he wasn't angry at her. She'd seen it before, most recently with Ukaru.

His fingers tightened over hers, making her look up to him as the snoring stopped. A small smile curved her lips at his low grin.

"'Morning."

She smiled more. "Good morning, Renji." She sighed as his arm closed snugger around her waist, pressing her fully against his side as her chin rested on his chest.

He slid his hand from over hers up the smooth skin of her arm, fingers gathering beneath her hair to pull her closer, his other hand tugging the comforter higher over her bare shoulders. "Hungry?"

She nodded. "Starving."

His hand moved to her cheek, one thumb drawing across the slight blush to her lips, the soft coral smile there making his grin widen as her dark lashes lowered over her eyes. "I like you being here in the morning, Orihime," he said, fingers lifting her chin so she had to look at him.

"I like being here."

His hand behind her hair pulled through the long auburn tresses slowly as he his grin turned into something more somber. "I mean that. Nothing to do with last night," he said, then grinned again. "Maybe a little. But I like watching you sleep, the way you smell, and this," he said, his hand pausing in her hair, hard fingers drawing out a strand to watch it fall over his chest. He groaned, eyes sharpening on her. "Damn, I sound like a first year academy idiot."

"I don't think so," she said, giggling as he pulled her higher onto himself, her breasts hidden against him as his eyes dropped there. "I like it."

He nodded, watching her arms cross before her over him, fingers to either side long his collarbones. "I've got something for you, but first a shower."

A look of surprise crossed her face, making her lean away slightly. "Oh?"

"Partly out of necessity with the limited hot water situation in this place," he said, pulling one of her hands up to kiss her fingers over his own. "Partly because I want you in there with me. Unless you're opposed to it. In that case I get a cold shower after yours."

She shook her head, smiling more as her fingers traced the camellia design on his chest. "But we can take a quick shower together?" She added the last word hesitantly, her blush increasing.

He nodded.

The shower was small, and Renji didn't try to stay out of Orihime's way, nor did she want him to. The air was still too cool in the apartment without any central heating, and the small bathroom was soon steamed up with the hot water from the shower head.

The half bar of soap was quickly lathered over her arms and torso, Renji behind her, the water issue on her mind amid other thoughts, until his arms crossed around her waist, hands before her, pulling her close to him as the water streamed over them. For a moment she remained against him as he leaned over her shoulder, feeling his strong body pressed to hers, watching his wet hair hanging beside her own, the water sheeting off it until the differing color of strands were mixed with each other.

She found herself holding her breath as his cheek rested beside hers, his hands following the curve of her hips up her stomach, not pausing as they slid over her breasts streaming with soapy bubbles, his lips on her neck as her eyes closed, focusing on his touch. His hands dropped once again to her waist, turning her to face him as her eyes opened, frowning at the solemn look on her face behind the limp wet locks of dark auburn hair.

"What's wrong?" He brushed her hair from her eyes, nodding slightly. "I shouldn't have asked you to come with me in here. Too fast, I know. Hell, I know --"

"Will you forget about me when you go back, Renji?" She didn't mean to blurt the words out, but they'd been on her mind for a few days, since their first intimacy, and she couldn't bear the thought of him abandoning her. She tried to keep the concern from her tone as her fingertips barely touched his chest. "When you go back to Soul Society?"

His frown deepened, one arm slipping around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek as he shook his head. "Is that what you're thinking?"

She meant to shake her head no, but she found herself nodding instead, searching his eyes. "I know you have to go back. I know that. But I don't want ... I don't want us to stop. I don't want _us_ to change."

He shook his head, the hot water raining around them. "No. I'm never going to forget about you, and nothing with us is stopping. Yeah, I've got to go back to Soul Society," he said gently, leaning against the wall and pulling her closer, feeling the slight hesitation in her body. "But nothing is ending with us. Understand that, Orihime?"

She nodded, feeling his hand glide down the center of her back, to one side of her leg and thigh to pull her leg around his. She looked to where his hand hooked behind her knee, and then leaned heavily against his chest, eyes closing to the water cascading over them. "Yes."

"Good." He braced his feet against the opposite side of the shower floor ledge and pulled at her leg, feeling the back of her thigh tighten as her other leg came around him. He put both arms under her thighs and lifted her to rest against him, her legs closing behind him instinctively, her hands on his forearms for support, and because she wanted them there.

"Who's been telling you that?" he wanted to know as she positioned herself better, eyes opening. He bent his legs more to allow her to sit across his thighs, arms around her, and looked down at the water trickling between their bodies as she eased closer. "Tell me who."

She shook her head. "No one." She bit her lower lip, releasing the skin as he shook his head at the movement. "You're a shinigami, and a lieutenant, Renji. All I do is go to school. That's it." She frowned, her hands running along his arms to his shoulders, hazel eyes searching his intently. "I can't even fight. I'm not good at any --"

"Don't worry about the fighting, Orihime Inoue," he said, hands gripping her back and leg firmer. "Do you hear me? It's not your fight. Don't worry about it."

She nodded slowly, fingers moving to his neck, crossing over his tattooed skin until a slow smile claimed her face. "I'm not touching anything else but you, Renji." She looked down to her feet dangling and then let the soles of her feet press against the back of his legs as he grinned. "Nothing else."

He looked at her legs around him, feeling them clench slightly. "Good."

He pulled her tighter against his chest, kissing her throat, the warm water on her skin tasting especially sweet as her lips touched to his temple, working slowly to the sideburn there as the water splashed her face, making her eyes close tighter.

A sudden knocking at the apartment door made them part, each looking to the other at the startling sound. A scowl crossed his face, tempted to ignore the knock he knew to be at his staircase door.

"Maybe they'll go away," she whispered near his lips, her fingers chasing a stream of water from his eye.

There was another, more insistent knocking.

"Damn it," he muttered, carefully setting her on her feet on the shower floor. "Damn it, damn it, damn it." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Finish your shower, Orihime. The hot water will be out soon."

She nodded as he exited the shower with a few more curses.

A moment later Renji was dressed in a pair of jeans, still drying his chest and hair as he ripped open the apartment's door to see Urahara standing there. Never had he been so irritated to see the shopkeeper.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Oh, well, good morning, Renji," Urahara said, his typically glib smile more annoying than usual. He pulled his coat around him closer. "Cold out this morning."

"Yeah. What do you want?" Renji dried his hair until it was a jumbled ball of red yarn. "Make it quick."

"Oh, well, seems Ukaru's been shooting off his mouth, and I thought you'd want to know."

Renji stopped working the towel, eyes sharpening on the other man. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The shower water from the bathroom behind Renji stopped. Urahara looked to the closed door further in the apartment. He grinned, a sly wink wanting to blink at Renji, but he didn't let it. "Got your shower on a timer, do you?"

Renji growled a curse. "What's this about Ukaru?"

Urahara sighed a thin cloud of vapor into the cold air. "I got wind he's overstepped his own division. Taking matters on what he sees as a damaging breach in Soul Society security to approach to Captain Soifon."

Renji's hand stopped the towel on his forehead, the cold sunlight of the morning forgotten. "A report to Second?"

Urahara nodded. "Yoruichi got a, well, a heads-up, shall we say, from Soifon concerning a visit to Miss Inoue." Genuine concern lent his tone. "Ukaru's out of line, in more ways than one this time, Renji. Stepping around Captain Kurotsuchi is bad enough, but going to Captain of Second is maybe worse."

Renji nodded without thinking. Of all the captains that made up the Gotei 13, there were three that were more feared for equal yet different reasons. All shinigamis wanted as little as possible to do with Captain Kurotsuchi, and most were spared any involvement, save for his own squad. Fewer had to deal with Captain Zaraki, and everyone went out of their way not to cross paths with the large captain known for welcoming any provocation to fight.

But Captain Soifon was another matter entirely. The small but lethal captain was a skilled warrior with her own set of ethics. She also had the powerful leverage of Soul Society's penalty force behind her. That gave her resources and a definitively final edge to any judgment calls.

Renji knew it, had seen it in action in the past, and he didn't like it when the attention was focused on Orihime. "Where's Ukaru?"

Urahara chuckled without humor. "Far away. Other side of town with his people, in pursuit of a couple Hollows discovered earlier." He glanced at the bathroom door and then back to Renji. "Soifon is due here this afternoon or tomorrow to question Miss Orihime. I advise a little moral support."

Renji nodded, frowning for several reasons. "Here, you say?"

"At the shop."

Renji pulled the door shut behind him and stepped onto the landing. "That's better than having Orihime come to Soul Society."

"That's what I was thinking."

Renji frowned at the top of the shop over the fence. "Who's idea was that? Captain Soifon's?"

"Yoruichi's." Urahara smiled. "She's got a way with Captain of Second, as you know." He shook his head. "I was wrong about Orihime before, Renji, but I'll have you know, I'm not behind any of this. Any aid she's given Espada or Arrancar was only out of inadvertent goodness of her heart, and to get her hair pins back. Nothing willingly. My opinion won't matter to Soifon," he said with a sigh, "never has, but I think there's nothing in my work -- or Kurotsuchi's findings -- that can fault her. Not in the results themselves. But I don't know what Ukaru's reported. Going around his own captain makes for bad feelings all over."

The cold of the air on his bare back was lost on Renji, his blood beginning to boil just under the surface. "Let me know when to have Orihime at the shop," he said tightly as he reached for the doorknob. "Let me know when Ukaru's back, too."

"That I will."

* * *

Orihime wasn't sure why Renji's mood had changed so drastically that morning as they walked back to her apartment after her hair had dried sufficiently. They picked up a quick breakfast at the corner café, his mood not improving with the yuzu buns except for the few moments when he'd given her the silver snowflake pendant. After that he was quiet again, and she fell silent in asking about what bothered him. He was reluctant with the details about who she learned was Urahara at the door to his apartment, but she knew it was more than simply an interrupted shower.

She'd tried to coax more out of him, and finally, over a second cup of tea that midmorning as they sat at the kotatsu table with the heater on low, the truth came out, slowly. She listened carefully, her tea cooling as her mind numbed at the news.

"Ukaru's wanting to make a name for himself, Orihime," Renji said by way of consolation, leaning over the corner of table and pushing her tea closer to her when she neglected it for ten minutes. He settled her now dry hair over her shoulder, enjoying its softness despite her wounded expression.

She shook her head, fingers resting on the snowflake pendant that was centered below the collar of her yellow sweater she'd changed into when they arrived back at her place. She smiled at it, the delicate design offsetting the pale color of the knit material. "He's kind of right, about --"

"No, he's not right about any of it," he said, fingers closing tighter on her shoulder as she looked up to him. "Captain Zaraki didn't want him, and Captain Kurotsuchi's going to be hotter than hell when he finds out Ukaru stepped around him. I don't think he knows yet. Nemu didn't say anything about it, just letting me know last night they were about finished with what she called preliminary work in town. I don't think it's that serious, Orihime," he added, watching her fingers turn the snowflake at her chest.

She looked to him. "I did help, Renji."

"No. Not really. You reacted as anyone else would." He looked to each of her eyes as she sighed. "In battle, against a like-matched opponent -- not Hollows -- a shinigami doesn't strike from behind or when the enemy has lost their sword. It just doesn't happen. It's the same with you, Orihime, but instead of a weapon, you can't stand to see anyone hurt. Even when those Arrancar girls were wounded, you wouldn't allow it. That was all you did. You didn't know what healing them would do," he said as she looked up slowly from the necklace. "That's all. And you only revived Grimmjow to get your powers returned. Nothing more."

She nodded subtly, wanting to believe him. "Do you think Captain Soifon will see it like that, too?"

He reached for her hand and pulled her fingers into his own, watching them curl nervously in his grasp. "Captain Soifon is an unyielding woman, and she's good at her job," he said as tolerantly as he could, choosing not to voice the words he wanted to use. "I think she'll be fair. She's meeting you here in the Living World instead of Soul Society. That right there is a good sign."

She nodded, her other hand going to the silver pendant. "Tomorrow?"

"Maybe later today." He pulled her closer across the corner of the table and kissed her forehead slowly. "I'll be there with you. Just tell her the truth, but don't tell her that you think you helped."

She nodded again, rising on her knees to kiss his cheek. "Thanks again for the necklace. I love it. It's so pretty. I don't have anything for you. I didn't think --"

"That's not why I gave it to you, Orihime." He was about to say something more as a knock came to the door at the hall. "Are you expecting someone?"

Her eyes closed and she nodded. "I forgot. Tatsuki said we'd go ice skating today if the park rink was frozen over."

"It's not that cold out," he said as she slipped her hand from his and stood up. He got to his feet and watched her smooth the chain at her collar as she went to the door.

"The park authority freezes it during the October break if it's even the least bit cold. Come with us," she said, a giggle hinting her tone. "It'll be fun."

He chuckled. "I don't skate, Orihime."

"We could teach you," she said, smiling more as she opened the door to see Tatsuki standing in the hall.

"I'll pass," he said, nodding to Tatsuki as she stepped in, a pair of skates in her red gloves.

"Hi, Orihime," Tatsuki said, looking from her to Renji. "Hey."

"Hey, Tatsuki," he said.

Orihime smiled wider. "Did you check the rink?"

Tatsuki nodded enthusiastically. "Frozen. People were already there when I went by, but it's not too busy yet. Lots of room to fall down."

"Oh, good." Orihime glanced to Renji as he collected his jacket from the futon. "You should come with us, Renji."

He looked to Tatsuki as she laughed outright. "You think I can't skate?"

She stopped laughing, a gloved hand going over her mouth. "Can you?"

"No."

Orihime watched him shrug into the jacket, already missing him. "Will you come by tonight for dinner?"

He pulled the jacket on and crossed the room to her, kissing her cheek soundly as Tatsuki's mouth dropped open. "I'll have to see what Tanaka-san's got in mind for me." His fingers tugged at the edge of her sweater, his voice dropping as his gaze held hers. "I'll let you know about Urahara's shop."

She nodded, her smile less sure until he kissed her lips quickly. "Okay."

He glanced to Tatsuki's look of surprise. "Congratulations on your competition."

"Oh ... thanks."

* * *

Renji didn't go straight back to his apartment, deciding to let Mrs. Tanaka's plans for him wait a few hours. He left his gigai on the rooftop of Orihime's apartment building and watched her and Tatsuki make their way across town to the park, the smaller park farther away from her school than the park Grimmjow had intercepted her and Chizuru in, following at a distance.

He watched from the water tower at the edge of the park, seeing her and her friend find room on the filling rink where a sheet of ice had been frozen over for early skating. Most skaters were children, a few closer to Orihime's age, mostly girls.

His sharp observation kept keenly on the rink for twenty minutes that glared in the bright sunshine despite the cold, noting no spiritual energy present in the vicinity, his grave mood breaking a few times when Orihime found herself on what he knew to be her well-shaped bottom on the ice.

He was torn between wanting to find Grimmjow and put an end to the whole Espada business -- even if it took killing the highly positioned Arrancar a dozen times to do it -- and seeking out Ukaru before Captain Soifon got her hooks into Orihime.

_Just for the hell of it,_ he thought. Just to watch the Fourth Seat squirm, just a taste of the damage Renji knew Captain Kurotsuchi would inflict on his subordinate once his insult to office was found out. He had damage of his own he wanted to level on the Fourth Seat.

Zabimaru's hilt was in Renji's hand at his side as he crouched at the water tower's top dome, watching the park rink, an unusual bitterness sinking through him. He wanted to do more than make Ukaru squirm.

Renji wanted to do a lot more.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story. Happy New Year!_


	29. Testing Material

Orihime and Tatsuki spent another hour at the rink at the park, skating until they were bruised and breathless, and then found hot chocolate at the coffee and cocoa shop down the street from the park, neither aware of the Espada who watched from several buildings back in the day's bright sunlight.

Grimmjow crouched at the edge of the six story building rooftop, narrow blue eyes watching the pair of girls, his mind twisting around possible avenues through his mind. He hadn't seen the red-haired shinigami that had watched the park and two girls for half an hour before leaving. His first impulse was to snatch Hueco Mundo's former captive and demand answers of her.

He set that urge aside for the moment, concentrating instead on what he'd learned from Menoly. She and Loly were dead, but he didn't know if they'd used up all their revival abilities or suffered injuries that had superceded Orihime's resurrection capacities. He scowled at the pair of girls that sat at the window seat in the coffee shop as they sipped their beverages.

Menoly's injuries before her final death were familiar to him. He knew them, had inflicted them a year ago. It was that very fact that made him suspect something other than a temporary nature to the previous revivals.

Thoughts of his new abilities after death now took on a different path. No longer was he confident he could unseat Aizen in the Realm. Not entirely. Not without knowing the full extent of his powers over death.

His glare sharpened on Orihime as she smiled at Tatsuki, the very expression on her face making contrasting thoughts cross his mind. This time he wouldn't take the hair pin.

Grimmjow was still deliberating his options when his attention snapped to three black figures alighting to a shorter building across the street behind a billboard. He recognized the two males and female, having seen them a few other times fighting Hollows.

He stood, pinpointing a final glimpse at the auburn-haired girl in the shop below, and then leapt to a building farther into town, feeling the ripple of reiatsu follow him from the three shinigamis.

First he wanted to be at top form before he encountered Orihime Inoue again. In all likelihood she'd be accompanied by the red-haired shinigami from his resurrection.

He'd seen the shinigamis that pursued him now in battle before, and he knew which was strongest.

* * *

Orihime walked Tatsuki back home, their conversation hinging around the dark-haired girl's new interest in her fellow teammate Yuki, with Orihime asking far too many questions from Tatsuki to answer over hot cocoa and the six block walk.

Orihime wanted answers. Never had her friend shown interest, not romantic interest, in a boy. Most of her interest had been of a combative nature. Usually it was her friend listening to her sigh over Ichigo. Orihime had tried not to bemoan her rapture to her friend, tried not to sigh too loudly over him, not to burden her with what she knew to be a one-sided infatuation.

She couldn't quite call it that now, not really. She knew there would always be a soft spot for the tall orange-haired temporary shinigami who had followed after her to Hueco Mundo. She'd come to that realization, hoping it didn't show in her face when she was around him.

But to have her affection returned -- now that was something new to her, and something she found addictive. Or maybe it was just Renji. A blush started over her cheeks despite the rising wind of the cold afternoon. He was more than tattoos and ponytail, much more, and was becoming a much larger part of her life she found herself eager to make room for.

She turned down his street after leaving Tatsuki's house, her steps slowing as she did, her anticipation to see him again -- even for a few moments before she went home -- overpowering her hesitation at being so near to what would eventually await her at Urahara's shop. Captain Soifon was no one to ignore or take lightly. Orihime knew this.

She let herself through the side alley between Mrs. Tanaka's house and the bamboo fence that was shared to Urahara's shop, following the low cursing she heard from overhead to the backyard to see Renji on the apartment house's rooftop.

She smiled, the laces to her skates wrapped around her hand as she looked up at the roof in the sunny sky where he knelt over his neighboring apartment unit, a bucket of tar and a few loose shingles at his knees. For a moment she watched him brush tar from the bucket onto a spot on the roof and then fit a section of shingle over it. She climbed the switchback of staircases until she was at his apartment door landing.

"Hi!" she called.

Renji glanced her way, sitting back on his heels on the roof incline, grinning when he saw her. "Hey! I'll be right there."

She smiled wider as he came over to the rooftop nearest her and dropped to one knee, grinning as she looked up at him.

"How was skating?"

She nodded. "Good."

"You want to come up for a minute?"

She nodded immediately, setting her skates on the landing, and then reaching up her arms to him.

Renji's hands closed over the sleeves of her coat, lifting her easily as a giggle escaped her when her shoes left the landing. Her hands clutched the double layers of pullovers he wore as she steadied her crouch on the rooftop.

He kissed her cheek quickly, and then grabbed her hand to bring her along with him to finish his work on the other section of the incline. She nodded when she saw the fresh tar and somewhat oddly unmatched gray shingles he'd repaired over the opposite side of the roof.

"Tanaka-san sure makes you do a lot," she murmured, bracing one hand at the angled rooftop as she knelt as he squatted at the repair. "I didn't know you knew how to do all this, Renji."

He chuckled, lifting the edge of a shingle of one broken row along the area being repaired. "I don't. Half this shit is just guesswork." He fit the new shingle into place and adjusted it to align with the others in the row. Its darker color contrasted with the other, faded shingles. "So far it's been working out. So long as nothing major goes wrong."

"Thanks for fixing my table." She leaned over to kiss his neck quickly, pulling her jacket closer to herself in the brisk breeze. "It's much better than last year. It worked only a few times last winter."

"You should have told someone." He didn't say who, but figured she knew a few who he was thinking of. "Chad might know something about that kind of stuff."

She nodded, watching him brush tar onto the last spot needing a new shingle, pulling her feet closer under her on the incline. Her voice was uneasy when she spoke. "Have you heard anything from Urahara-san?"

He shook his head, eyes dropping to her lips as she bit the lower one. "Not yet." He didn't tell her of the hour he'd spent that mid-morning searching out Ukaru or the other man and woman members of the Fourth Seat's small team.

There was no sign of them, no indication of the pack of Hollows Twelfth Division had pursued, no anything of Ukaru. After another hour of searching Renji had returned to Urahara's shop, but questioning of the shopkeeper proved nothing. No one had heard anything of Ukaru, nor was he responding to Renji's attempts at contact by Soul Society communicator, even under the auspices of back-up assistance.

Urahara had only chuckled earlier that afternoon, giving Renji a knowing look. "You won't find him until he's ready to get his ass kicked or you're under arrest, Renji," Urahara had said as Renji left the shop. "Can you blame him?"

Renji watched Orihime's fingers run along the rough edges of a shingle she sat on. "But Vice-Captain Kurotsuchi contacted me." He saw the look of contained terror she tried to hide at the name. He put one hand on her knee, squeezing gently in reassurance. "Vice-Captain Kurotsuchi is coming with Captain Soifon and Vice-Captain Omaeda. She has some questions for you. It's better than her Captain, Orihime," he said as soothingly as he dared. "Just some questions, she said. If it was anything of consequence Captain Kurotsuchi himself would be coming, too."

She nodded, arms wrapping tightly around her shins, fingers tensing onto the sleeves of her arms. "I suppose that's better."

He nodded, looking back to the shingle he was fitting under the upper one. He pressed down on it and held it into place over top of the tar. "I'm almost finished here." He leaned one knee on the shingle and turned to her, using two fingers that were clean to move the hair from her face that the wind tossed across her eyes. "I'll request to be there with you for the questioning. As the most senior officer in the Living World and witness to the matters Ukaru's reported, I can request it. Captain Soifon will probably grant it, but it's hard to tell with her."

She nodded, sighing shallowly as his fingers raised her chin that dropped. "Thanks, Renji."

"Hey!" Jinta yelled from the top of the bamboo fence, standing at the last brace across it on the shop's side to see them over the angle of the roof. "Hey! Abarai-san! They're here! Everyone's here now!"

Renji looked to Orihime, his hand moving to hers as the trepidation shot into her eyes. "Be strong. Let's go."

* * *

Captain Soifon was already seated at the table in the room at Urahara's shop that Orihime had met Hachigen and Tessai in earlier, but there was no tea service present. The small Captain of Second Division sat at the wide side of the table where Hachigen had sat before, her posture erect, expression watchful as Renji entered the room with Orihime. He'd changed out of his gigai, and Orihime found herself feeling more secure with him in uniform before the captain who'd summoned her.

They'd passed Nemu as they came in, she and Tessai in a storage room off the shop's back hall, but she hadn't spoken to Renji, her attention on the large man with her, their movements unclear in the room. Renji wanted to speak with the fellow lieutenant, but hadn't lingered, not wanting to delay Orihime's meeting with Soifon, and Nemu hadn't addressed him.

Omaeda remained at the doorway of the more casual room where Soifon sat at the table, his bulky form looking almost comical in its shinigami robes, his visage adding to the erroneously laughable appearance. Whatever lack of significance he posed, his captain more than made up for.

He looked to Renji, a slight nod at him under Soifon's pointed attention.

It was only the four of them in the room, and the distinct chill Orihime felt as she stopped beside Renji before the table was more than her imagination.

Renji bowed to the captain, eyes remaining on her estimation of the girl at his side. "Captain Soifon, Inoue Orihime, as you requested."

Orihime bowed for a long moment, her fingers aching to reach for Renji's hand that she could see curl towards her at his side.

Soifon looked to each of them, her severe stare shifting to the girl for a long moment. "You will remain, Vice-Captain Abarai," she said crisply, eyes unblinking on Orihime.

"Yes, Captain." He turned, catching the desperate fear in Orihime's face as he did. He steeled against his first impulse to take her hand. She only nodded slightly and looked back to Soifon as he moved to the doorway and took his post opposite Omaeda. When he looked back to the table Soifon was still watching the girl.

The door opened and Soifon looked to it, the sour look flicking to her face conveying what she thought of Urahara as the man stepped in. "This is a closed session, Urahara-san. Soul Society business."

"Ah, yes, but as your host, I request I be allowed to sit in," the shopkeeper said, his smile more imploring than smirking.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly, but said, "You may."

Renji looked to the door again, and this time Yoruichi entered, in her human form. He glanced at the table to see Soifon nod to the woman.

"I'd like to observe also," she said, tilting her head to one side, making the purple cast to her ponytail a deeper hue in the overhead lights. "Is that all right?"

Soifon nodded. "Inoue, sit down."

"Yes, Captain Soifon," she said as Urahara and Yoruichi took a spot at a side wall. Orihime slowly knelt on the cushion before the table, clasping her hands before her in an attempt to keep them from shaking, feeling cold in the room despite her thick jacket and the shop being well-heated. She meekly looked to the small woman across the table, knowing Soifon's girlish appearance belied her position and authority.

Soifon looked to the single sheet of paper before her on the table, eyes reading only a few lines before they went back to Orihime. "Officer Ukaru has reported you aided the former Espada Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez by resurrecting him from the dead. Is that true?"

Orihime nodded. "Yes."

"Is it true you did this of your own volition?"

Orihime nodded again, her mouth dry. "Yes, Captain, but by prior agreement with him."

Soifon's eyes narrowed on her, but even from his distance at the door Renji could see the corner of her mouth twitch. "Explain this agreement."

Orihime took a breath, trying to keep her voice level. "He took my hair pin, the source of part of my powers, and demanded I revive him to get it back. I still had my healing powers, but not my protective or attack powers."

Soifon nodded, setting the paper to the side, the movement making Renji stand straighter at attention as the captain looked to the others in the room. "Are there any witnesses to this bargain with Inoue?"

No one in the room spoke for a long moment. Finally Renji added what he could of the situation.

"I found her shortly after the encounter," he said, Soifon's attention darting to him. "She was missing one hair pin and was bruised from the attack."

Soifon looked back to Orihime. "Is that true?"

"Yes."

Soifon nodded. "The report alleges you worked with the Arrancars Loly and Menoly as well as Grimmjow. Did you assist them in any way?"

Orihime opened her mouth, pausing for several moments as the small woman across the table watched her closely. "I revived Loly and Menoly in Hueco Mundo, like I said when you interviewed me after the War, Captain Soifon. I didn't know it had permanents revival abilities. I wouldn't have done it. I only ... assisted Grimmjow to get my hair pin back," she said as her voice cracked, threatening to fail her.

"Was your hair pin returned to you?"

Orihime nodded, even as Soifon's eyes rested on each side of her head at the hair pins. "Yes."

"Undamaged?"

"Yes, Captain Soifon."

"Have you had further dealings with any Arrancars since?"

Orihime nodded, eyes locked on Soifon's almost amused expression. "Loly and Menoly were brought here, to Urahara-san's shop after they were killed, and I was able to reverse time to a point where they were ... uh, well, before they were revived in Hueco Mundo," she explained slowly. "Before they had the capabilities to revive."

Soifon nodded. "As I understand it, they no longer had the capability to resurrect after being killed after your reversal of time, as it's been termed?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Where are they now?"

Orihime looked to Urahara without thinking, and then quickly back to Soifon. "I think Urahara-san took Loly. She was still dead. Menoly escaped, and Ukaru-san and his squad went after her. I don't know what happened to her after that."

Soifon nodded, eyes dropping to the paper without reading it. She crossed her arms along the table before her, eyes going to Renji at the door, and then to Yoruichi and Urahara in turn against one side wall. "Does anyone know what's become of the Arrancar Menoly?"

"There's been no word on her since," Renji said. "She's not been seen, but when she left she was injured."

Soifon looked to him. "What was the extent of these injuries?"

Renji thought back to what he knew of Orihime's report from Hueco Mundo and her dealings with the two Arrancar girls after their attack on her. "If she's in the same condition she was prior to being healed in Hueco Mundo, I'd say she's badly wounded."

Soifon looked to Orihime. "How badly wounded? Life-threatening?"

Orihime nodded without hesitation. "Oh, yes. Grimmjow killed her in Hueco Mundo."

"In your opinion," Soifon said, drawing out the words as much as she disliked saying them, "is Menoly likely to die of her injuries?"

"Yes. Yes, Captain."

Soifon sat straighter and turned the paper on the table over, the print face-down. "As for your dealings with the former Espada Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez," she said, her eyes taking on a less amused quality, "have you aided him aside from resurrecting him since you've returned from Hueco Mundo?"

"No."

"Did you aid him in any manner previous to his resurrection since you've returned to the Living World?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"No, Captain."

Soifon nodded. "Were there any witnesses to this resurrection?"

"I witnessed it," Renji said, taking half a step forward before halting. He saw Orihime's head turn slightly to one side, but she didn't look to him over her shoulder. "She revived him, and that was it, Captain Soifon."

"Nothing more?" Soifon asked him.

"Nothing more, Captain."

Yoruichi nodded from where she leaned against the wall near Urahara. "I witnessed it."

Soifon's stare was less clinical as she looked to her.

"That's how it happened, Soifon," Yoruichi said, shrugging, arms crossed over her chest as she held the smaller woman's attention. "Inoue-chan simply revived him and then left with me and Lieutenant Abarai. She didn't speak to Grimmjow or loiter. She left immediately."

Soifon nodded, looking back to Orihime's now hopeful expression. She glanced to Urahara. "You still have the Arrancar Loly here?"

"Uh, no, not now," the shopkeeper said, scratching the back of his head below the hat, a grin crossing his face. "She's been shipped off to Captain Kurotsuchi now."

"Damn wizards," Soifon mumbled, eyes going briefly to the paper's blank side. "Vice-Captain Kurotsuchi has questions for you," she said to Orihime as she reached for the paper again. "I find no validity in Officer Ukaru's report of you aiding the Espada in any other motive than securing your hair pin. You're finished here."

For a moment Orihime could only stare at the other woman, the dismissal spoken simply, as if meaningless. She finally composed her shock and stood, bowing deeply. "Thank you, Captain Soifon. Thank you."

She turned and made herself walk slowly to the door, catching Renji's grin as she smiled. He had one hand on the door when she reached it as Soifon spoke again.

"Vice-Captain Abarai, you will remain for the complaint against you," she said, her eyes going to Urahara and Yoruichi at the wall as they both looked to her with surprise. "This is a separate matter."

Renji opened the door, eyes on Soifon as Orihime paused beside him. Several thoughts rushed him, among the first his Captain. He glanced at Orihime for a second, reading the sudden concern that leapt back to her expression. He crossed the room to stand before the table as Soifon studied him with less than her usual scrutiny, ignoring the hushed whispering between Urahara and Yoruichi.

"What charges against me? Who?" His hand was on Zabimaru's hilt, fingers tightening as his mind raced.

"This complaint, Vice-Captain Abarai, is not a captain level charge," she said, standing to face him. "It's barely a grievance worthy of my time, but since it's been brought to my attention -- and has circumvented Captain Kuchiki and Captain Kurotsuchi -- I'll deal with it. What you do with your free time is your own business, Vice-Captain, but if it interferes with your position and abilities as a Soul Society representative, it's mine."

Renji's posture tautened, something the shorter captain clearly read, as did Omaeda who took a few steps toward the table.

"The complaint," Soifon said, eyes moving to Orihime still at the door for a moment before going back to Renji, "is that your relationship with Inoue has clouded your judgment. Whatever your relationship is with this Living girl, does it compromise your functioning as a lieutenant?"

"Absolutely not," Renji said tightly. "Who brought the charge?"

"This complaint," she said, emphasizing the last word, "was brought by Office Ukaru."

"Its bullshit," he spat, taking another step to the table as Omaeda moved to his side, the heavy man's hand on his sword. "Ukaru is --"

"The complaint is that you're at less than lieutenant standards in matters concerning Inoue," Soifon said, eyes shifting to the girl as Orihime caught a quick breath. Soifon raised an eyebrow at Renji. "Any merit to that, Vice-Captain?"

"My relationship with Orihime has nothing to do with my office as lieutenant," he snapped, voice dropping to a growl.

"Does your involvement with her alter your decisions as a lieutenant?" she asked.

"No."

"You're telling me you let your relationship with the Living girl impacts none of your decisions?"

Renji almost grinned. It wasn't like Captain Soifon to allow anyone an advantageous opening in any military or security matter, but she had this time. "No, I'm not saying that."

She nodded. "On matters concerning Soul Society, Vice-Captain?"

"No, not on those matters."

She nodded again, looking to Omaeda's pudgy hand on his sword hilt, his battle-ready stance giving him an almost ridiculous appearance. "Put your hand down, Omaeda," she hissed. "There's hardly a need for such dramatics."

Omaeda frowned deeper, but relaxed his hand, arm dropping to his side.

"As for the matter of drawing your sword on a subordinate without being in the presence of your captain," Soifon said with a sigh, looking to Renji again, "Ukaru claims you threatened him at sword point. Was that in retaliation to a Soul Society concern, or something else?"

With that Soifon had snapped shut any opening she'd given him, and Renji knew it. "It was in response to Ukaru drawing his sword, Captain Soifon."

She nodded, a slight smile tempting her tight lips. "You're saying he drew first?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Did anyone witness this altercation?"

"I did," Urahara said, clearing his throat and smiling at her.

Soifon sent him a biting look before her attention went to Renji. "Is that true? Urahara-san was present?"

"Yes, Captain." He nodded, breathing only slightly easier.

"That part was left out of his report." Soifon picked up the paper and folded it quickly. "I see no reason to further this investigation. Officer Ukaru's complaint is petty and unfound. Not the first, either, I might add, and as such is grounds for a counter-complaint, if you're interested, Vice-Captain."

Omaeda grunted a snigger, and she gave him a stern look.

"What do you find so funny, Lieutenant?"

Omaeda shrugged, sending Renji a grin. "Vice-Captain Abarai will have to stand in line behind Officer Ayasegawa and a few others if he wants to offer a complaint about Ukaru, Captain."

Soifon nodded, folding the paper again. "As an official complaint, it will be forwarded as _unfounded_ to Captain Kuchiki," she said. "Both he and Captain Kurotsuchi will receive the findings of Officer Ukaru's unsubstantiated complaint regarding Inoue, as he has breached protocol in bypassing their command."

Renji sighed as much as he dared, bowing as Soifon stepped around the table. "Thank you, Captain."

"Vice-Captain Kurotsuchi has questions for Inoue," she said, eyes going to Yoruichi's amused smile.

She was about to say more when heavy footfalls were heard in the hall, and Urahara headed for the door. He moved Orihime to the side, as she was still standing before it.

Renji looked to Omaeda. "Yumichika, huh?"

The bulbous officer nodded. "Ukaru's got problems with a lot of people."

Renji nodded. "Yeah, well, he's going to have one more problem with me."

Omaeda chuckled. "Lots more now."

From the hall came a shuffling of feet and low voices, among them Nemu's precise tone. Renji moved to Orihime, his actions still cautious with Soifon present.

"Are you all right?" he asked almost needlessly.

She smiled, eyes flitting from him to Soifon in conversation with Yoruichi, and back to him. "It's okay now?"

He nodded, one hand on her shoulder as he escorted her into the hallway. "I'm going to tear Ukaru in half when I see him."

At the end of the hall Urahara was standing with the unseated members of Twelfth Division and Nemu, all looking with interest at Ukaru's form draped over the shoulder of the slighter man from his division.

It took Renji a moment to recognize the man from Twelfth Squad, the man he'd seen accompany Ukaru and the testy-looking woman the past few weeks. Ukaru appeared dead, his shinigami robes white, his chest wound at the supporting man's shoulder seeping red onto the black material.

"In the basement," Urahara was saying to the man from Twelfth, the hint of a lilt to his voice. "Grimmjow?" The man nodded. Urahara looked to Renji. "Looks like someone beat you to it, Renji."

Orihime's steps slowed as she followed him down the hall to the back of the shop, but quickened when Soifon, Yoruichi, and Omaeda passed her.

"Captain Kurotsuchi would like Officer Ukaru returned to Soul Society immediately," Nemu said as Renji met them.

"Ah, so soon? We have an agreement on the matter, Vice-Captain," Urahara said, frowning at the woman, whose face remained expressionless.

"Those were my orders before I left, Urahara-san," she added as they were joined by the rest of the group. "It was also requested that Inoue perform a resurrection in my presence on one of my Squad members, that I might observe and take those findings back to my father," she said, looking to the body slumped over the younger man's shoulder as he looked to the woman from his division that had accompanied him. "In this case," Nemu continued, "Officer Ukaru will be suitable."

Soifon gave her a shaper look. "Vice-Captain, what goes on in Twelfth Division in Soul Society may be Captain Kurotsuchi's concern, but in the Living World it is mine, and no shinigami slaughters another for experimental purposes."

Nemu was unfazed by the small captain. "Those were my orders, Captain Soifon."

Urahara looked between the women. "Hey, it doesn't matter now, does it really? Ukaru has thoughtlessly provided himself available to Miss Inoue's abilities." He turned to find the girl, who was looking around Renji's shoulder at the collection of shinigamis.

Renji's hand edged to hers at his side, her fingers shaking slightly at the proposal before them, the movement escaping all but Yoruichi still by her side.

"Only Captain Kurotsuchi would demand such an assignment of his subordinates," Soifon mumbled under her breath as she turned to Omaeda. "We're done here." She looked to Nemu. "Tell your Captain to expect a copy of Officer Ukaru's complaint tomorrow."

"Yes, Captain Soifon." Nemu looked to Orihime. "I've been told you'll assist us in obtaining a sample of your resurrecting abilities. Is that correct?"

It was news to Orihime, her eyes still fastened on the Ukaru's impaled form, but she nodded. "Yes."

Urahara sighed, looking to Tessai standing at the open doorway to the storage room where Orihime had failed to revive the shinigami from her previous visit nearly two months ago. "Are we set up, Tessai?"

The large man nodded. "All set, Boss."

Soifon turned to speak with Yoruichi as Nemu directed her two fellow squadsmen to follow her to Tessai, with Urahara trailing. Renji's hand closed tighter on Orihime's at his side, looking to her.

"The worst is over," he told her in a low voice as she stepped nearer to him. "Do you feel up to this? No one said anything about a resurrection to me."

She nodded, trying to give him more of a smile. "I'd rather do it here than in Soul Society."

His fingers laced in hers, bringing more of a smile from her lips. "Good. Good too that Captain Soifon didn't find anything to use against us. Damn Ukaru."

She looked down the hall to where the figures had disappeared into storage room, their voices muted. "His Captain will be angry."

Renji chuckled, setting aside his own urge to do the Fourth Seat damage. "Yeah, Ukaru's going to wish he stayed dead once Captain Kurotsuchi gets into him."

She nodded as he released her fingers, and ushered her down the hall.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story._


	30. Stray Dog and Cat

It was late afternoon by the time Orihime and Renji left Urahara's shop. The bright sunlight that had warmed the chill day turned overcast, making Orihime feel she'd missed something in the dark interiors of the shop.

It hadn't been her choice, and she knew there was no way around meeting Captain Soifon. Renji knew this too.

He didn't take her directly home for several reasons. Her steps were slower as she climbed the series of stairs behind his apartment house, the impromptu resurrecting of Ukaru having taken its toll on her energy. But she hid it.

She always tried to hide it; that he had learned of her.

"Ukaru was more difficult than the Arrancars?" he asked as she set her coat on the futon inside a moment later.

She nodded, joining him at the kitchenette counter where he was setting the small water kettle on the hot plate. It was of metal, and missing its top, and she suddenly wanted to replace it with a new one. "Maybe because he was drained of all reiatsu, Renji. I don't know, but it was harder." She leaned her back to the counter as he reached into an overhead cupboard for two tea cups, watching the water in the kettle try to boil minus the top. "But I don't know why that would be harder. Dead is dead, right?"

"I've always thought so. Maybe because he was a shinigami."

She looked quickly to him as he said it. "But why?"

He shook his head, turning to study her better. "According to Urahara, all reiatsu types are different. Ukaru wasn't a very powerful shinigami, Orihime, but he was on another level than either Loly or Menoly. Maybe it was because he was a shinigami and not an Arrancar, or maybe because he was drained." He didn't like the pout that set a firm line at her lips. He leaned closer, lifting her chin gently with his fingers. "You did it; he's alive. That's all that matters now."

She nodded, sighing as he turned back to the cupboard and found the small canister of tea. "You're right, Renji. It just seemed so, so challenging this time."

He put one hand on her shoulder, fingers rubbing softly against her neck until she looked to him. "Grimmjow sapped him of everything he had. Ukaru wasn't very strong, but Grimmjow took everything."

She fought off a sudden tremble at the thought. "Tessai-san said Grimmjow will go after Kurosaki-kun when he thinks he can beat him."

Renji dropped two tea bags in the cups, watching the water come to a low simmer in the kettle. He didn't want to say it, but he did anyway. It wasn't like he could ignore the strawberry when it came to Orihime. "Ichigo can take care of himself. Grimmjow's got a long way to go before he can best him."

"He hasn't been practicing," she said reluctantly, looking to him as his hand moved farther around her neck beneath her hair. "Not since the War. Not like he used to."

He chuckled, hoping to set her at ease. "No one has. Well, not many; no one in Eleventh Division has eased off. We've all gone a little slack. It happens after war, but everyone is starting to pick up again." He kissed her briefly. "Don't worry about it. I don't think Grimmjow is anywhere near full power yet. I don't even know if he's capable of accessing his true zanpakutou powers."

She blinked a few times, his words turning through her mind. "You think he's that ..." she didn't want to say _weak_, but it was the only word that fit. "That weak?"

"I'd never call him weak," he said, eyes on hers as she looked to the kettle. "He's strong, but not what he was during the War."

She watched him pour the hot water into the tea cups, the steam billowing from each into the cool air of the room. "It's chillier in here than before."

"Tanaka-san must be gone. She doesn't leave her heater going when she's out. Which is good." He pulled her into his arms and grinned at the smile replacing her pout. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, tilting her face to look at him, leaning against his t-shirt as his embrace grew stronger around her, the familiar faint scent of musk making her smile more. "Not when you're around."

"Good."

Her arms encircled his waist as more of a smile came to her face, and then she looked to the door of the apartment. He followed her gaze, and was about to speak when someone knocked on the door.

She didn't say who it was, didn't want to when Renji's arms were around her, but Orihime knew who was there even before he released her and crossed the room to open the door.

Renji stared back at Ichigo on the stair landing, canceling the first thoughts going through his mind at the sight of the temporary shinigami. "Hey, what's up?"

Ichigo was in streetwear, underdressed for the colder weather in a hooded pullover that was a gift from his sisters his last birthday. His eyes went to where Orihime stood at the counter. "Hey, Renji, can I talk to you for minute?"

Renji nodded, opening the door wider.

Orihime smiled and waved a hello when Ichigo entered and Renji closed the door behind him. "Hi, Kurosaki-kun."

He nodded. "Hi, Orihime. Uh, not trying to ... interrupt, but I was at Hat-n-Clog's place talking to Tessai-san, and he was wondering about your Sōten Kisshun. Just general questions," he added as she frowned. "He and Hachigen-san are trying to figure out how to bind Grimmjow after he's defeated. Something that'll hold him, and they wanted to know what I knew about it."

Renji glanced to the confusion on Orihime's face. "Why don't they just ask her? Why you?" He nodded to the counter. "Tea?"

He used the last of the hot water for a third cup of tea for Ichigo, who joined them in the small kitchenette, sending Orihime a measured, inquisitive look when he thought Renji wasn't looking.

Renji set the stool by the counter and invited Orihime to it. She climbed onto it carefully, hooking her socked feet at the braces below and accepted the cup of tea he gave her.

"He's asking everyone who's been healed by Orihime about the properties of the Sōten Kisshun bubble," Ichigo said, looking at her over his cup. "Something to do with what they need to know about counteracting the resurrection, I think."

"You've been healed the most," Renji said to him. "What did you tell them?"

Ichigo shrugged. "I can't remember half of it. Kind of fuzzy at times. Being injured, and then being made whole, but in between it was kind of hazy, you know. It was only a few minutes, so I knew what was going on. Just kind of surreal during the actual healing." He read the look crossing Renji's face. "She never healed you, did she?"

Renji shook his head. "Not me."

Orihime looked to him, her fingers going to the snowflake peeking from her collar. "That's right. But Rukia, and Ishida-kun, and Sato-kun."

Ichigo nodded, watching her fingers twist the silver pendant. "Rukia's coming back in a few days to talk with Tessai-san."

Both Orihime and Renji heard it, Ichigo's reference to _back_, as if Rukia belonged in the Living World, as if her time in Soul Society was a departure from where she should be.

Renji only nodded. "She has family business with Captain Kuchiki for a few days. But what can you tell them about the healing bubble, Ichigo?"

"They wanted to know how much of a barrier it was." He gulped down half his tea. "If I could get out, leave it."

Orihime sat straighter. "Could you?"

"I don't know. I didn't try."

Renji sighed. "Why _would_ you try?"

Ichigo shrugged. "They wanted to know that, and just stuff about time. They told me what you did for Loly and Menoly, Orihime," he said, tone losing some of its indifference. "It's too dangerous to try again."

Her eyes went to the tea in her cup, fingers wrapping around both sides of it. "It worked."

"Grimmjow's much stronger than a couple of Arrancars," he said.

"That's not the plan," Renji said, feeling Orihime's reluctance to elaborate. "Tessai and Hachigen are working on a binding spell. It won't be permanent, but it'll help."

Ichigo nodded. "Anyway, they want to talk to Chad and Ishida, too. And Rukia. Get a better fix on what they're up against."

"What's that got to do with a binding spell?" Renji asked, leaning against the counter beside the stool. "They already tested a low-power spell on Kensei. He'd be the one to talk."

"Yeah, they talked to him. Tessai said they're looking to use properties of Orihime's Sōten Kisshun with their own, kind of work _with_ the healing she's done rather than entirely against it," Ichigo said. "That's all they told me. Combine the properties or some shit like that."

Orihime thought it over, nodding slowly as she recalled what Hachigen had told her when she'd met with him and Tessai. "That might be better."

Ichigo looked between them for a moment, Renji's growing guardedness too evident as Orihime watched the remaining tea in her cup as she swirled it in a slow circle. He looked from the red-haired shinigami's hand on the counter behind her back, noting her obvious ease with him. He looked back to Renji's scrutiny of him in return.

Ichigo downed the last of his tea and set the cup on the counter near the sink, looking to Orihime as she glanced up from her tea.

"I'm out of here. Just wanted to let you know what Urahara's up to. Captain Kurotsuchi wouldn't let him keep Ukaru for any tests, Orihime, so Tessai is trying to piece together the next best methods, I guess."

"Thanks, Kurosaki-kun," she said, giving him a smile as he headed for the door.

Renji followed. "What else is on your mind?" he asked as Ichigo stopped at the door, his voice dropping.

Ichigo's scowl turned puzzled as he paused, not looking to the girl still sitting on the stool. "Grimmjow was last seen on the other side of town this morning where he met up with Twelfth. School starts in a few days, and Orihime will be back outside more." Now he did look to her.

Renji shook his head. "I'm not letting anything happen to her."

He nodded. "Grimmjow got what he wanted from her; there's nothing to stop him from getting rid of her now."

Renji opened the door and nodded to the small stair landing. When he and Ichigo were outside, he shut the door so Orihime couldn't hear. "He returned the hair pin. He's done with her. If he wanted to get rid of her, he'd have done it when he left her the pin." Renji crossed his arms against the chill air in the cloudy sky. "He'll be after you now, Ichigo, if he thinks he's strong enough. You're the next target."

Ichigo shrugged, turning to the stair steps. "Bring it on, I say, but stay the hell away from her."

Renji nodded as Ichigo left. "Then you better knock the rust of Zangetsu."

Ichigo took the steps two at a time as he descended. "Yeah. Warm up Zabimaru, Abarai."

* * *

The early darkness falling over the town had turned colder by the time Renji took Orihime home later, the sky clearing to allow early stars to shine down from the cold heavens. Ichigo's words were still on his mind, leaving him wondering about Orihime's return to school and the former Espada still at large in Karakura Town. He'd gotten word that Twelfth Division was to put forth more effort in eradicating the menace, but that wasn't until the following week, after Kurotsuchi was satisfied he'd gotten enough testing material to see him through his planned experiments.

It wasn't soon enough for Renji.

As much as he wanted the week to come sooner, he knew it also meant his time in the Living World was expiring. His time to return to Soul Society drawing closer.

After he dropped her at her apartment with a promise to return for a late supper, Orihime set back out on the few errands she'd neglected earlier. There weren't many, but she'd opted to spend more time with Renji lately, and the need for provisions had caught up with her. She'd promised him more than noodles for dinner, and that required a trip to the corner market.

The early evening seemed later than usual, the crowds on the streets hurrying to their destinations as the cold damp set in on the sidewalks. On Orihime's mind was what Renji had told her of Ichigo's conversation after they'd left his apartment.

At least Tessai and Hachigen were advancing their plans to contain Grimmjow, even if Captain Kurotsuchi seemed to be taking the threat in stride in interest of his experiments, she decided. It made her feel more secure, knowing that the two Kido experts were pooling their skills, and seeking information from Chad and Uryu on how best to work with her Sōten Kisshun. She didn't fully understand -- even her own powers -- but she had every confidence in the Kido masters.

The bag of vegetables, package of pork, and assorted noodles was in her hand, her mind on Renji, and the brisk wind at her back as Orihime turned the corner on the sidewalk. She'd taken only a few steps when she became aware of the figure breaking the clear skyline in the starry evening of the building across the street.

She knew the silhouette of Grimmjow immediately, even before she took her next sharp breath. She halted, instinctively moving to the boutique shop next to her on the sidewalk, bumping into an older woman who gave her a reprimand.

Orihime didn't acknowledge the woman, pressing herself flat to the wide shop window as she clutched her shopping bag closer. She couldn't see his face from her distance, but she knew Grimmjow was looking in her direction. She backed up quickly, trying to lose herself in the crowd passing her in the opposite direction.

She turned and ran head on into the pedestrian traffic, her bag tight in her hand, forgetting to breathe until she was at the next turn of the block. She took the turn at full speed, dodging a new set of oncoming traffic of people only to feel a large hand close around the back of her coat and lift her off her feet. The scream died on her lips as the sidewalk and street fell away from under her feet.

"Shut up!" Grimmjow bit at her, pulling her higher as they swiftly jolted to the top of the three story building.

Orihime had no choice but to fall silent, the collar of her coat choking off any sound she wanted to make, watching her shopping bag tumble from her hand to the street below.

They landed on the rooftop and he jerked her around to face him, his hand moving to her collar in a fiercer grip, bringing her face close to his.

"I want some answers from you," he growled.

She tried to answer, but could only force out a nod, her hands automatically clutching at his wrist on her coat.

"How long does the resurrection last?"

She tried to swallow, but the tightness of the coat made it impossible. "Forever. It's, it's permanent," she gasped, trying to draw a breath.

He shook her twice. "Again! How long does it last? For _me_, how long, woman?"

She nodded. "I told you. It's permanent."

His eyes fell over her face, making her cringe, her feet barely touching the ground as her hands twisted on his wrist. "Menoly's dead. It's _not_ permanent. How long does it last?"

Her breath caught sharply, eyes widening on his face. She shook her head.

"How many times, woman?"

She tried to cough, the hold on her throat making her dizzy as she felt the weight of her body sag under the diminished oxygen. "It's perma ... permanent."

"Then why did she die?" His hand eased slightly, and he lowered her enough to let her feet rest more on the rooftop. "Why didn't she revive?"

Orihime swallowed, gasping for the fleeting amount of air allowed beneath his grip. "She was undone."

Now he set her fully on the roof, her knees nearly buckling until she made a clumsy recovery at standing. She drew a rattled breath, his hand still tight in her coat as her hands dropped further down his arm.

"What does that mean, _undone_?"

"Don't answer the bastard!" Renji shouted, dropping down a few feet away, Zabimaru in his hand. "Let her go, Grimmjow!"

Orihime looked to him as she struggled to breathe, his face dark in rage as he glowered at Grimmjow. The hand at her throat tightened again, squeezing off any air or sound.

"This is between me and her, shinigami!" Grimmjow sneered at him. "I'll deal with you later!"

"You'll deal with me now!"

Renji's sword flashed between them, expertly severing the Espada's arm from his elbow. Orihime fell back, sucking in air, terrified eyes on the dismembered hand still clutching her coat. She dropped her hands from it, and then desperately pawed at it, trying to pull it free as she scooted back from the two figures circling each other.

A roar had erupted from Grimmjow at the sever, his glare leveling on Renji as he charged across the rooftop, and then both into the air above the building. He shook out his stump of an arm, drawing his sword with his right hand as his other arm rematerialized instantly. He grinned at Renji, his sudden chilling laugh rending the night.

"You're out of your league, shinigami!" he called to him.

"Get out of here, Orihime!" Renji yelled to her.

She barely heard him. The hand at her collar had turned black, a skeletal arm that rattled when she moved. She shrieked and flung it away, scooting back to a chimney pipe, eyes following Renji and Grimmjow overhead.

Renji launched at him as Grimmjow's arm completely formed, catching the Espada's sword only inches from his face as he blocked. Grimmjow threw off the blade and countered with a back swipe that slit through Renji's black robes, bringing a grunt from him but no injury. Renji volleyed back, matching the Espada strike for strike as he pushed him back above the rooftop, the force of his blade opening his white shirt at one shoulder.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed on him, gritting his teeth as his next round of slashes were met evenly by Renji's sword, until the last which wasn't completely blocked, sinking the sharp blade into his cheek and shoulder.

An intense pain shot though his shoulder as Renji heaved him back, following with a mid-torso backhanded slash that brought a bellow from Grimmjow.

Orihime had backed up to the chimney, her back pressed tight against the wide pipe as she watched, eyes fastened on the red glow at Grimmjow's recovered hand as it flashed toward Renji. The impact was dulled by a quick block from his blade, the deflection burning the side of his face, part of it mirroring back to Grimmjow.

"Howl, Zabimaru!" Renji demanded, sending the sword into an eager response, the segments whipping out to his side as he recoiled and lashed at Grimmjow.

It was nearly a block, mostly as Grimmjow's sword slowed the elongated teeth, but not before several of them tore at his throat, pulling out a massive piece.

In the few seconds it took Renji to pull his blade and strike again Grimmjow slashed open his shoulder near the previous injury. Renji clenched his teeth at the pain and sent Zabimaru into a biting flash that cut deeply, opening the Espada's chest, nearly cleaving him in two.

This time the roar that sprung form Grimmjow was choked off by a spatter of blood, his sword dropping as his body fell back to the rooftop. It landed a few feet away from a vent valve pipe, crumpled into a broken heap that drained red across the dark rooftop, unmoving.

Orihime's eyes were frozen on it, even after she knew Renji had alighted to the roof near her. She tore her view away form the dead form, a whimper escaping her when she saw Renji.

She willed her legs work, her earlier strangulation making her steps unstable, sinking to her knees as she tried to rise.

"Are you all right, Orihime?" he asked as he reached her, his hand catching her elbow and bringing her to her feet. His arm slid to the small of her waist, bracing her against him.

She nodded, her hand on his chest as her eyes roved the injuries bleeding freely at his shoulder, gaze rising to his face where the skin at his cheek was torn and burned black below his eye. "You're hurt, Renji. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she murmured, shaking her head as a low sob broke from her lips at the blood trailing down his face. "I can heal it all. Sit down, and --"

"No time for that now, love," he said, his arm loosening around her as he holstered his katakana. He kissed the top of her head, and then her lips quickly. "We've got to get him locked into a binding spell before he revives. Hachigen is closer, but --"

"I'm right here," Urahara said, materializing suddenly a few feet away, as his reiatsu-blocking cloak dissolved. "I've sent for both him and Tessai." He shook his head, grinning at Grimmjow's form. "Not at the level he used to be, but mighty powerful. Got the job done, Renji."

"You're always showing up late," Renji grumbled at him, pulling Orihime closer despite the shopkeeper's appearance. "Full of tricks, as always."

"Guess you could say that." Urahara pushed up the brim of his hat. "I think Tessai could handle this on his own, but Hachigen's input would be a help. Nothing short of everything for this spell."

Orihime looked to the body that had so recently terrified her, her fingers clutching Renji's black robe, cautiously. She looked to him. "Sit down and I'll get started."

Renji shook his head, eyes darting to Grimmjow. "Not until we get this finished."

"Ah, I see you've started without me," Hachigen's voice boomed as he alighted to the rooftop, his breathing heavy with the effort. He chuckled when he saw Orihime. "A little ahead of schedule, are we?"

She nodded, inhaling fully as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Not by choice."

"Hmm, very well," he said, turning to look at Urahara. "We haven't finished our research, but I think a spell combining a dimensional fixation would be best. Even in the same dimension as the Realm a high level binding spell would be unbreakable for half a century or more. Aizen-sama may have the resources to diminish the timeframe, but I doubt he's got much to work with now."

Urahara frowned. "Tessai mentioned something about that. He'll be here shortly."

Renji made Orihime look at him as the men's talk turned to spells and dimensions. "You're sure you're okay?"

She nodded, smiling, eyes softening when she looked at the trickle of blood that was coursing more timidly down his cheek. "Let me heal you now, Renji." Her hand was light on his chest, fingers pulling at the edge of his robe. "I'll be quick."

"It can wait." He led her to the chimney pipe again and leaned her against it. "Stay here and let these guys finish scrapping among themselves, and then I'll let you put your hands wherever you want," he promised with a grin.

She blushed faintly in the dark, nodding. "I hope Tessai-san gets here soon."

He nodded. "Stay here, and I'll see if they'll hurry this along."

She sighed, nodding as she leaned against the chimney, watching him return to the other men. The dark of early nightfall seemed warmer now, whether because of the dead Espada or because of the clouds moving among the stars overhead, holding in the warmth of the atmosphere. Orihime didn't know which.

She watched Grimmjow, the white of his clothes seeming eerily bright in the dark, hearing Urahara's voice dominate the conversation, with Hachigen's insistent tone making his points in an ever increasingly higher pitch. Renji's bass was most familiar to her, bringing a small smile to her lips when he spoke.

The moments passed quickly, making her cross her arms and hold them tight against her chest, feeling the precious time slipping by, knowing Grimmjow's inevitable resurrection was nearing.

"Please hurry," she whispered to no one, glancing to the men. She saw Renji wipe his sleeve at his face as the blood dripped onto his chest, smearing part of the red onto his neck.

Where she knew they blended with the tattoos, making her frown as she thought on his injuries. She knew he was hurting, that the wounds beneath his robe were gaping at his shoulder. She'd seen enough injuries to know what happened when flesh was sliced open and let stretch wide.

She glanced to Grimmjow, the seconds ticking by as they awaited Tessai. She steeled her resolve, and went silently to the still form of the Espada as the three men debated.

He was slumped to his side, his left arm beneath him, his chest open and nearly drained, much as the impaled shinigami he'd slain for the past few weeks. Being so near him made her knees shake, but she was determined not to let the trembling interfere. She wasted no time, dropping to one knee, calling upon Shuno and Ayame silently, reluctant to speak so near to him, even knowing he couldn't hear her or respond.

Her hands stretched out over the body, a large shell of protective healing forming as she worked. She felt the draw on her energy immediately, almost as if he were pulling back, sucking her healing powers from her rather than accepting what she offered.

But she wasn't offering a remedy to his injuries; that was simply a byproduct of reversing the time to as far back as she could, to a time he was less powerful. Not to Hueco Mundo, she knew, not that far. Past the War, before he'd began harvesting from shinigami, to when he'd been relegated to the streets, before he was dropping schoolgirls from rooftops.

A sudden chill grabbed her spine as she worked, the icy grip so strong it nearly broke her concentration. The time within the shield mixed as it fluctuated with her weariness of the day.

"Come on, Shunou, Ayame," she whispered, hearing a small peep from Shunou. She repeated the kotodama, focusing more intently on her work as she fought the wave of dizziness sweeping her.

Suddenly Grimmjow's eyes opened, his head turning as his gaze pinpointed on her sharply, bringing a small squeak that broke her voice. He glared at her for a few seconds, and then his attention shifted to beyond her. He put one hand on the roof surface beside him, confusion eclipsing him as he slowly rose to brace on the hand. His attention snapped back to her as he sat up, and then his hand trust out and closed around her collar, again.

She shrieked as he grabbed her, the bubble shifting slightly at his movements, pushing against her, something she didn't know was even possible.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, fingers knotting in her coat, pulling until she was nearly in the bubble.

Renji spun around at the outburst from Orihime, and was at her side in a second. "Break it off!" he ordered, one hand vice-like around Grimmjow's wrist at her throat. "Let it go, Orihime!"

Her fingers curled from the bubble, face wrinkling in exertion as she turned her face away. "I can't! I can't, Renji! It's fixed!"

She heard Urahara and Hachigen shouting to them, but was only conscious of the bubble that seemed magnetized to her hands as Grimmjow's right hand remained at her collar.

Renji shoved him farther into the bubble, himself half-immersed inside the void as Orihime called back Shunou and Ayame. Grimmjow released her, grabbing Renji's throat instead, a lock that brought him closer as the bubble snapped and dissipated.

" ...drop it," Hachigen was saying. "Now, Renji! Release!"

Renji heaved Grimmjow against the vent pipe, and then turned and grabbed Orihime about the waist and threw her back as Hachigen's voice bellowed the binding spell incantation.

Orihime found herself pulled roughly to her feet by Renji's arm at her waist, half-dragged away from Grimmjow's desperate lunge for her as Hachigen's words made true. For a moment Grimmjow's movements halted, and then he roared an unearthly noise that made Orihime cover her ears, burying her face in Renji's chest as he turned to look behind him.

Hachigen stood a few feet away from Grimmjow as the Espada remained still, dissolving into a fading swirl as he cried out. Hachigen whisked his hands into the air, the swirl following, disappearing into the dark of night, taking the particles of the Espada with it. For a long moment he watched heavenward, as if waiting, and then turned to look at Orihime.

"Are you all right, Miss Inoue?" Urahara asked from behind her, peeking around to where Renji still shielded her from Hachigen's work.

She nodded, sighing as Renji dropped his arm from her waist. "Yes. I'm all right."

"That was a risky procedure to attempt," he said, his usually amused expression holding no humor. "I know it worked on the Arrancars and Ukaru, but Grimmjow is another matter altogether."

She nodded, returning Renji's look of curiosity. He turned to look at Hachigen again, and then up into the dark skies.

"Where is he?" he asked.

"Sealed in another dimension," Hachigen said, wiping his face with his large hand. "Fifty years, if we're lucky, but I can't guarantee it." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "If Tessai-san was here, I could make more of a promise. As it is now, I think Miss Inoue's Sōten Kisshun added the benefit Tessai-san and I were hoping to achieve."

"Fifty years is a start," Urahara said.

Renji looked from Hachigen to Urahara, and then to Orihime. "That was too dangerous," he said, frowning at her. "He's far too strong for you to manage alone."

"I wanted to reverse his resurrection before he could revive," she said, sighing, his frown making her uneasy. "Just back to before he was resurrected, and before he was so strong."

Renji nodded, gaze traveling over her face and coat before going back to her eyes. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, smiling, and then placed one hand on his robe, studying his face closer in the dark. "Your injuries," she said, one finger touching his undamaged cheek, "they're healed. They're all gone."

He looked down at her finger, then back to her, nodding slowly.

Hachigen joined them, still catching his breath as he looked to Renji. "Hmm, yes. Well, he was in the Sōten Kisshun, too, Miss Orihime."

"Oh, yes," she said, smiling more at Renji.

"Thanks," he said, and then looked down with some surprise when her hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

"Everything is healed?" she asked.

He nodded, frowning slightly. "I think so." He shook his head, turning to Hachigen as Orihime's hand slipped from his robe. "Exactly what the hell happened?"

"Near as we can tell," Urahara said, scratching the back of his neck, eyes on Orihime, "Grimmjow's barricaded in another dimension. That right?" he asked Hachigen, who nodded. "But I wouldn't trust him not to fight his way out a bit earlier than we expected, even weakened by Miss Orihime's time reversal."

Renji looked to her. "How far did you reverse him?"

"I'm not sure, but I think to about the end of the summer." She put a hand to her neck, fingers warm on the chill that still permeated her back. "I felt the cold on my spine again, so I think he's back to where he was about six or seven weeks ago."

He nodded, watching her fingers on her neck as Hachigen tilted his head to one side, smiling beneath his pink mustache at her.

"As much as I'd like to analyze everything you've done tonight," the large Vizard said kindly, "I think I can wait until you've rested up. Would you be available to speak with Tessai-san and I again about this matter?"

"Oh, yes, yes," she said, nodding even as the weariness caught her body.

"Good," Urahara said, looking to Renji. "You'll see her home tonight, and bring her by sometime soon?"

Renji nodded slowly. "Sure, if it's all right with you," he said to her.

She nodded.

The walk home was slow, with the day's taxing events starting to show more in Orihime's steps. The sidewalks were nearly empty, and she found Renji oddly quiet. They'd walked the two blocks, nearly to her apartment building, before he offered much conversation.

"I know you're skilled at healing, and can manipulate time, Orihime," he said finally as she stopped at the exterior door of the building, "but it's too dangerous to try something like that on someone like Grimmjow."

"I'm sorry," she said, sighing. "Please don't be mad at me, Renji."

He shook his head, grinning a little at her. "I'm not mad at you. I just don't want to see you hurt."

She nodded, pushing on the door at the entry.

He looked up at the building, finding the name of it. "I'll let you know when Tessai and Hachigen want to see you."

"Okay." She pushed the door open wider, turning to see him still standing on the sidewalk. "We can still have dinner, Renji," she said, smiling as he looked to her. "I can manage to make something for us with the ingredients I have."

This time his frown was more than fleeting, trying to read her hazel eyes as she watched him. "Uh, dinner?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I dropped my groceries, but I can order from the noodle shop, if that's what you want. I'm sure you're hungry after your fight."

He nodded slowly, studying her smile for a long moment, until the feature began to droop. "I don't remember the fight, Orihime." He took a step towards her, his frown turning more confused. "Everything on the roof of the building, it's kind of blurry right now. Dark spots, you know?"

She sighed, nodding. "Oh, I think I understand. Kurosaki-kun said it's a little fuzzy sometimes when he gets healed, too, and you were caught in a reversal that took much longer than healing most of his injuries."

He nodded. "That must be it."

She stepped into the building, watching him remain at the sidewalk. "Do you want to come up?"

His eyes narrowed slightly on her. "Now?"

A notch of alarm rose in Orihime, but she was unsure why. "If you want to, Renji."

He nodded.

He followed her up the winding stairs to her floor, not speaking until they got to her hall, and then halting hesitantly at her door. She unlocked it and opened it as she went in, looking back as he remained in the hall.

"You're not coming in?"

His gaze shifted to the room's interior behind her before returning again on her face. "You should rest. Guess you've had a full day. I'll go now."

She nodded slowly, unease creeping through her. "You're angry with me."

"Of course not," he said with a chuckle.

She attempted a meager smile. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

He looked to each of her eyes, nodding slowly again. "Sure. I'm glad you're all right, Orihime."

"Thanks." She paused at the doorway, waiting for him to take that last step closer to her, but he didn't.

"I'll see later."

Then he turned down the hall and walked away.

Orihime watched him go until he'd turned the corner out of sight.

He was angry with her. She knew it. She sighed, and quietly closed the door.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to everyone who read this story and for the reviews. There are two chapters left._


	31. No Girl in the Window

Renji awoke the next morning to a blazing headache and murky memory of the night before. For a few moments he lay on the futon staring at the ceiling of the apartment bedroom, frowning as the blurry fight with Grimmjow refused to sharpen in his consciousness.

Actually, he didn't even remember enough of the fight to add any knowledge to it, his first memory of it being Hachigen yelling for Orihime to 'drop it', and then recalling grabbing her and pulling her away from the Kido master's binding spell. It was one of the most potent spells Renji had ever felt, seeming to suck at the night around them, and dragging Orihime away from it had been difficult.

He rubbed a hand over his face, grumbling a curse at the headache and uncertain memories. She'd been a little off, too, as he'd walked her home, but she was safe and free from Grimmjow, and that was what mattered most.

He sat up in the cold morning light of the window, grimacing at the crisp chill for the time of year, and spent a moment pushing his hair back from his face, frowning as he looked around the room. He shucked the blanket from him and turned his legs over the futon side, looking to the night stand.

It had confused him the night before, and looking at the small photo of Orihime in the morning light wasn't clarifying anything for him. He picked up the picture, studying it as he had the night before, but this time with more deliberation.

Her small smile, the lavish dress, the hazel eyes that made him grin despite the headache that had grown to a pounding inside his head. She was a cute girl. A pretty girl.

Nice, too, he knew. _What the hell is wrong with Kurosaki that he can be so blind to her?_ Renji thought, setting the photo back on the stand as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head. It was the first fight that he couldn't remember not feeling something from -- no injuries, no tenderness. Not even a sense of accomplishment.

After all, he _had_ won.

The cold air met his chest, surprising him, a vague surreal feeling pulling at him. He tried to shake the feeling, and dressed to meet Urahara for his checkup on the gigai testing.

* * *

Ten minutes later Renji was descending the stairs to the shopkeeper's laboratory basement, the ache in his temples diminished from when he'd awoke. The lab was as it always was, colored liquids in beakers, one a particularly frenzied combination of silvery-gray bubbling in streams of blue and peach, the tables draped with sheets over questionable shapes at one corner. He reached the cement floor and looked to where the inventor-researcher was sleeping slumped back in his chair at a work table, one hand supporting his head at the cheek as he snored, hat brim covering most of his face.

Renji stopped before the desk and cleared his throat. It was enough to wake Urahara.

He snorted into waking, his head slipping from his hand as he looked sleepily to Renji across the desk. He sat straighter, a hand fumbling his hat into position. "Oh, hey, Renji. Didn't expect to see you so early today. Quite a night last night, eh?"

Renji shrugged, frowning at him. "I thought you said eight o'clock."

Urahara stared at him expressionless, looking to the stairs as Yoruichi descended, her hands at her head as she worked a ponytail into her purple hair. "In the _morning_ eight o'clock?"

Renji shook his head. "I assumed so. Yeah, eight. You want a report or not?" He found himself hoping no. How much help he could be at the moment in his present brain fog he wasn't sure.

"Report?" Urahara looked to Yoruichi as she stood at the desk edge.

"You look hung-over, Renji," she said with a grin. "Remember your fight with Grimmjow yet?"

He shook his head, which wasn't the right thing to do with the pounding still at his temples. "What's the use of beating the bastard if I don't remember it?"

"It'll come back." Urahara shrugged and stood up. "Should, anyway."

For a moment Renji stared back at them, and when neither of them made a move, he gave Urahara a pointed look. "Are we going to do this damn checkup or not?"

Urahara looked to Yoruichi, who raised an eyebrow at Renji. "That's not until Sunday, Renji. This is Friday."

"You think I'm an idiot?" He looked between the two, seeing no humor, only what appeared to be a bit of concern in Yoruichi's eyes.

"I was afraid there'd be problems," Urahara said, winking at Yoruichi, the sly amusement coming back to his smile. "Temporary problem with the reversal. You know you're on the thirty day testing, right, Renji?"

A sharp bristling feeling hit the back of Renji's mind, somewhere deep where he kept his memories, a space that was a bit murky in spots at the moment. "I haven't gotten permission from Captain Byakuya for that one yet." He scowled at the shopkeeper. "What're you looking so damn smug about?"

"You're on the thirty day testing now, Renji," Yoruichi said gently, smiling more. She waved a hand at him. "Don't worry. I'm sure it's just a short lapse. Should clear up soon." She looked to Urahara. "Right?"

He nodded. "Sure. Soon. Don't worry about the testing, Renji," he said with a chuckle. "I've got my data to catch you up when your brain sets ahead."

"What the hell does that mean, _ahead_?" He turned to Yoruichi. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Renji, when Orihime reversed Grimmjow last night you were caught up in the Sōten Kisshun, too."

"I remember that much, damn it, Urahara," Renji snapped. "It's before that, the shit with Grimmjow that got us there that's gone."

Yoruichi blinked at him in surprise. "Gone?"

Defensiveness slipped over Renji, not from the woman's demeanor, but what impact her words had on him. "I know he was a problem and Hachigen sealed him up in another dimension, but it's a little fuzzy. The fight and all."

"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," Urahara said, stretching his arms in winding motions to either side and looking around for his fan. "You won. That's it. The rest will come back soon."

Renji didn't like the sound of it. "Are you sure?"

"Is anyone ever sure about anything?"

Renji wasn't in the mood for the shopkeeper's games. "Joker, all right. Sunday is the next check in?"

Urahara nodded. "Miss Inoue's healed a lot of people, Renji. No one's ever lost more than a few minutes or so. Don't worry about it."

Renji nodded and turned to the staircase. "See you Sunday."

He'd just reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hall to the back door of the shop when Yoruichi caught up with him, this time her smile less mischievous.

"Hey, it's just temporary, Renji," she assured, sticking her hands in her front pockets and shrugging. "Nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure? I know he thinks it's a joke, but I can't be losing my memory," he said, voice dropping. Banished or not, she was still a noble and he knew they were different breed. "My captain is not a man to keep on any sort of defective lieutenant."

She shook her head. "You remember everything that happened in the War, don't you?"

"Yeah, but that was, what? A year ago?"

She nodded. "What's the last thing you remember, the last concrete memory?"

He took a deep breath, hands going to his hips impatiently as he thought back. "A rise in Hollows around town. Uh, Tanaka-san rented to me the place next door so I could do the three day gigai testing. I think I'm supposed to do something for her ... soon." He watched her look back at him. "It was a lot warmer. Last night I thought it was just the night air, and I was a little groggy."

Yoruichi didn't want to be the one to mention it, but she didn't see how it could hurt. Maybe even help. "You remember Orihime, don't you?"

"Of course I remember her," he said, hands dropping to his sides only to tense again. He found himself wanting to punch something, but wasn't sure why, or what.

"Good. Shinigami or Living, women don't like to be forgotten about." Yoruichi didn't push it any farther than that. "Why don't you go see her? See how she's doing today. She had a rough day yesterday, taking Grimmjow back so far."

He nodded. "She said something about dinner at her place, so I guess that's okay."

She smiled. "Good."

He moved down the hall, hearing the bell tinkle at the front door of the shop far behind him. He reached the back door, Yoruichi's words replaying through his mind as his steps slowed. He turned as she took a few steps towards him, her arms crossed as she shrugged. "What did you mean by that?"

"No one knows, exactly, Renji," she said, gold eyes holding a bit more humor now. "You haven't been very forthcoming with any juicy gossip, but you've definitely built a mote around the girl and chained up the drawbridge."

His scowl magnified as she smiled more.

"Of course, Kusuke's got a theory about it," she added, laughing a little. "He's got a theory about everything, actually, but you've kept it between you and Orihime." She shrugged. "You'll get up to speed soon, so don't worry about Byakuya. He's a noble and a captain, but he's still fair." She turned and went back down the hall as Urahara appeared at the top of the stairway. "By the way, he's on family business, and Rukia is back in Soul Society," she called over her shoulder. "If that helps any."

"Thanks." Renji turned and opened the back door to find Ururu and Jinta leaning on it to listen in. "Knock it off," he growled primarily to the boy.

For once Jinta had nothing mocking to say. He stepped aside, crowding Ururu as she tried to pull her broom out of Renji's path.

"Tanaka-san wants to see you," the children said almost in unison, Jinta elbowing the girl when she didn't yield to him.

Renji nodded, barely hearing them as he took the steps off the porch. Yoruichi's suggestions had raised more questions than filled in memory gaps. "Thanks."

* * *

It was past noon by the time Orihime sensed Renji at the hallway door. She'd been expecting to see him, hoping to see him earlier than dinner, but with his mood from the last evening she wasn't too eager to make an unannounced visit on him.

Besides, she was tired. Very tired. Reversing Grimmjow to before he'd drained the spirit forces from nearly a dozen shinigami had exhausted her, and even with the relief of knowing that the Espada was safely sealed away for at least half a century wasn't enough to ease the apprehension gnawing at her over the night.

She was still chilled from the event, the wind at the rooftop coupled with the familiar cold on her spine that indicated Grimmjow was near. It had actually helped her know where she was in the reversal, but didn't like how the feeling clung to her still.

She pulled the soft pink sweater hem lower over her jeans as she tidied the apartment, trying to keep her hands and mind busy. Off what was really nagging at her.

Last night she'd welcomed the chill at her spine when she was using Sōten Kisshun to reverse Grimmjow back to a weaker state, but she wished it would pass. Perhaps it wasn't even real, just her mind messing with her fears. There was no other indication to gauge her progress during the reversal, except for the bewilderment on the Espada's face, but even that she couldn't read well through the anger in him.

Plus, his hand at her throat made anything difficult.

She didn't want Renji to be angry with her. There was only the weekend left before school would resume, and she didn't want to waste the days in limbo.

She opened the door to his knock, smiling when she seen him standing in the hall, looking much like he always had lately in jean and a double layer of pullovers, which to her was inviting. "Hi," she said, opening the door wide. "You're early. Good."

"Hi, Orihime."

He stepped in as she closed the door behind him, looking around at the comfortable room, nodding at the blanketed kotatsu table near the futon. He glanced back to her, her smile bringing a grin from him. "How are you feeling today?"

She nodded, clasping her hands before her when he made no move toward her. "Good. All better. How are you?"

"Fine."

She looked to each of his eyes, hoping to see something familiar in their brown depths. There wasn't. "Come in. Are you hungry?"

He shook his head, following her into the small kitchen area. "I didn't come for dinner, Orihime."

She turned around quickly as she reached the counter. "You didn't?" She laughed uneasily. "Of course not. It's too early for dinner. How about a late lunch?"

He'd hoped it wouldn't be there, something in her face he was supposed to know but didn't. There was no denying the expectancy in her eyes, the hope. He'd seen it before, not when she was looking at him. _That damn hope when she looks at Kurosaki,_ he thought. But this time it was him she was looking at, and it was more than hope.

"I'm not hungry."

She nodded, fingers going to the snowflake pendant at her throat that settled over the sweater collar. "Do you remember your fight with Grimmjow yet?"

"No."

He leaned beside her against the counter, surprised a bit when she edged closer, her hip not quite touching his jeans.

"Maybe something will jog it back," she said, nodding. "Do you remember cutting off his arm?"

It was news to Renji. "No. I did?"

She nodded, smiling as she pushed her hair from her face. "Uh, do you remember anything else you did yesterday?"

He shook his head, setting his hands on the counter edge at his sides, watching her eyes drop to the one between them. "Nothing."

"Do you want a soda?" she asked, her voice more timid now.

"No, that's okay." He cleared his throat. "I just wanted to see if you were okay today, Orihime."

She shook her head a little, eyes going to the collar of his black t-shirt where the points of a tattoo arched up his neck. Her fingers rested bemusedly on the pendant. "Is that all, Renji?"

He nodded slowly, then shook his head. "There seems to be a gap in some things ... something I want to remember," he added, frowning as more of a tremulous smile touched her lips. "Something I should. Like I slept through something important. You ever feel like you should know something?"

She nodded immediately. "Lots of times, but usually during exams."

He chuckled. "Yeah."

For a moment she returned his stare with the same expectant hope he'd seen from the moment he walked in.

"You're not mad at me?" she asked, fingers leaving the silver snowflake to rest on the counter edge beside his.

"No. You're okay, so no damage done. Urahara was right; it was too dangerous to do, Orihime," he said, looking to her fingers curled at the Formica counter an inch away from his. He looked to the pendant at her pink collar. "That's pretty."

Alarm now leapt to her hazel eyes and she couldn't stop it this time. "You gave it to me, Renji."

He frowned. "I did?" The dread washing over her face erasing any hint of smile told him more than that he'd forgotten. "I'm sorry, Orihime, I don't remember." He looked to the wall as low pop music began from her neighbor's apartment. "_I_ gave it to you?"

She nodded, forcing the remnants of a smile to her lips. "The day after I ... when I ..." The words left off, unable to form when she felt like she was telling them to a stranger. She shook her head. Not stranger, not him, never a stranger. She hadn't even shared that information with Tatsuki. "You gave it to me, Renji."

He watched her move away from the counter, her arms crossing before her as she turned her back to him. He was about to say something, something he hadn't prepared, probably the wrong thing, when she turned to look at him, this time the hurt unmasked in her eyes.

"Listen, Orihime, I don't remember it right now, but I will. I mean, I should," he said, a sudden irritation rising in him. "Urahara said it should pass and I'll remember everything soon."

"You don't remember us?" Her voice was soft, nearly fragile, and she took a deep breath. "Do you?"

He frowned, shaking his head slowly. "I get the feeling there was ... but I don't ... not really."

Her fingers tightened on the sweater sleeves at her crossed arms. "Nothing?"

"... No."

She shook her head. "Nothing from this week?"

He shook his head slowly.

"Not, not even ..." More than ever she wanted to call back a rejection of events. Her lips pursed, looking to each of his eyes as he tried to read something beyond them to help him remember. "You don't remember our first time?"

Renji didn't move, his posture seeming to freeze as the imploring desperation seeped into her eyes. Much as he wanted to read something else into her words, there was little that fit. He shook his head. "It's not that --"

"You can't for get that. Our first time." She shook her head. "_My_ first time?"

He hadn't shaken his head, he was sure of it, but she saw his answer.

Her hand went to her mouth, eyes opening wider almost in horror. "You don't remember _any_ of it? Any of us?"

He stood straighter, taking a step toward her. She didn't move away, only stared at him, and then hugged her arms tighter to her chest.

"Listen, I'm sorry," he said lowly as her face dropped from him.

She shook her head. "It's ... it's..." she couldn't say _okay_. It wasn't. She nodded, forcing back the sob that wanted to erupt from her. She sniffed. "Okay. Well," she shrugged, not looking at him. "Okay ..."

He sighed, raising one hand to her shoulder, something about the action feeling predatory that made him stop. He looked at the blue flower hair pin that seemed to be looking back at him.

"I'm sorry, Orihime." He lowered his head to try to see her better, but her face was still turned from him, her palm wiping across her cheek. "Whatever, I mean everything that's happened will come back. It should. Urahara said soon."

She nodded, hesitantly looking to him finally, eyes damp but refusing to cry. "You're sure?"

He nodded. "I hope so."

"I hope so, too, Renji."

For a long moment he stood across from her, the scent of honeysuckle about her faint, and as much as he wanted to pat her shoulder or make a joke to get her to smile again, he resisted. He knew his jokes weren't all that good, and one right then wouldn't make her laugh. Probably the opposite.

"Uh, I'm going to go now." He sighed as she nodded, her eyes shifting to her hands now knotted together before her. "I'll see you maybe tomorrow?"

"If you want to."

He nodded and crossed the room to the door, her following a few feet away. He threw a glare at the neighboring wall where the peppy music seemed to mock their awkwardness with each other.

"Please remember, Renji," she said lowly, more to herself than him, eyes rising to his as he opened the door and looked back at her.

"I'll see you later, Orihime."

She nodded.

Renji let himself out and she closed the door behind him. She leaned against it for a long moment, her hand staying on the knob before sliding up the crease to where the wood met the frame at the wall.

She turned around and rested her back to it, knowing he hadn't yet left down the hall. The tears won against her will to squeeze her eyes shut. She muffled the sob in her sleeve, burying her face in the thick sweater so he wouldn't hear.

She held her breath as long as she could, until finally hearing him move away, his steps fading down the hall.

She slid to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest, covering her face with both arms and let the tears take hold.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and alerted/favorited this story. Your interest has been great support. One chapter left._**


	32. Unraveled

Renji was on his fourth beer by the time he got company later that afternoon. He'd done a few odd jobs for Mrs. Tanaka when he returned before digging into the six pack of beer he'd brought back. By the second he was wishing he'd gotten something much stronger.

He'd seen girls cry before; never liked it. It was usually over a man.

He'd seen Momo Hinamori breakdown over her captain, unabashed tears for a man who'd used her in nearly every conceivable way for a girl, steep from her every ingrained female quality that she'd given in total devotion to her mentor and leader.

Rukia had been different. At first Renji had held Kurosaki responsible for extracting Rukia's shinigami powers against her will, forcing her into a vulnerable place that left his own captain in a position to retrieve her from the Living World despite the consequences. It had taken a long, painful time to realize he and that strawberry were after the same outcome.

Rukia was utmost in his protective mind frame then.

Even Rangiku Matsumoto had been heard crying.

Of course, she denied it, covering her deep wounds with saké, letting most of Seireitei be convinced of her easy love of the drink.

Renji had heard her cry. He wasn't supposed to, and she dismissed it as the alcohol, but he knew what was behind it. He'd been there.

But being the _reason_ a girl cried -- that was different. That wasn't something he was used to, something he wasn't expecting. Orihime's low sobs on the other side of her apartment door had spiked deep into him.

He'd seen her dismiss, downplay, even outright ignore Kurosaki's affection for Rukia.

It had bothered him, but her pain was muted by his eagerness to subdue his own hurt that he'd passed it over.

Now he was the reason for the crying, the unabashed sobs, her helpless tears that no one was going to wipe away. He didn't like it.

It had also brought up his own methods of pursuit. He'd never been opportunistic. Never gainful of a woman's slighted affections. There'd been times. A few times. Friend... a needful ear ... a handy shoulder.

He didn't want to be that for Orihime.

There'd been something more between them. He wanted it to be something not of a convenience or rebounding reaction.

It had been a long time in coming, but she'd been there, in the back of his mind, that sweet shadow that had been neglected by him, by most in fact, the genuine smile he'd always found ready.

When Ichigo knocked on his apartment door that afternoon and threatened personal damage, Renji let him.

Not because of the threat, but because he knew the force behind it.

Ichigo was livid. "I told you I'd kill you, Abarai! You go hurting her and I'll kill you!"

Renji was almost willing to let him have at it. He gestured to the main room with a wave of the beer bottle. "Come on in."

Ichigo stepped in, glancing around suspiciously as Renji closed the door. He looked to him. "What did you do to her?"

Renji wanted to know that himself. "I don't remember. Hell, Kurosaki, I wish I did."

Ichigo's face twisted into more confusion.

Renji went back to the futon and dropped onto it, a heavy squeak cutting above the enka music from the apartment below. "Grab a beer."

Ichigo put both hands on his hips. "She wouldn't even let me in her apartment. She's never done that, Renji. I think she's been crying. She said she was cutting up onions, but I don't believe that bullshit."

"You know Grimmjow is trapped --"

"Yeah, I know all that." A scowl replaced part of Ichigo's anger. "How much time did you lose?"

"I don't know. About six, seven weeks, I think." Just looking at the strawberry made Renji want to break something. After ignoring her feelings for so long the temporary shinigami had the nerve to be protective of her affections when it came to someone else?

"Maybe you should do something you two used to do," Ichigo suggested, crossing his arms. "Go to a place you went to before. Maybe a food --"

"Damn it, Kurosaki, aren't you listening?" Renji was on his feet. "I don't know! I don't remember where we went. What we did. That's the problem!"

"Yeah, I guess..." Ichigo looked around the room, getting no help from anything in it. "Do you remember watching Tatsuki's tournament at Orihime's place?"

"No."

"Chad was there."

Renji shrugged. "If you say so. This is between Orihime and me, Ichigo. I'll get my memory back soon and that's it. Stay out of it." He saw Ichigo's hands ball into fists as they dropped to his sides. "It's my business. Our business. Mine and Orihime's."

The red came back to Ichigo's face. "If you hurt her --"

"You'll kick my ass. I get it." Renji shook his head. "Just leave it between her and me, alright?"

Ichigo nodded, still not satisfied with anything.

"Is that it?" Renji raised an eyebrow, hoping so. "Any other threats you want to air?"

Ichigo shook his head, turning to the door. "Just be nice to her, Renji."

He nodded. "I will. She's a sweet girl." He sighed. "I miss her. Even not knowing what ..." His eyes narrowed on the guy at the door. "I still miss her. I don't know how that's even possible, Ichigo, but knowing there was something, and I can't remember it," he sighed again, "I miss her."

"Then go talk to her."

Renji nodded as Ichigo opened the door and stepped out onto the stair landing. "Who told you?"

"Hat-n-Clogs. Kinda."

Renji muttered a curse.

Ichigo started down the staircase. "See you later."

* * *

The weekend was long for Orihime. Renji accompanied her to Urahara's shop for a short meeting with Tessai, but they'd decided on a lengthier debriefing of the Espada matter when Hachigen was able to be present.

She'd grown used to the accompanying warmth being near Renji had provided over the last weeks. It was still there, his comfortable manner that she had figured out beneath the sharp looks and tattoos, but it was different now. He wasn't quite at ease with her. She could feel it. She didn't like it.

He was more than cordial as he stayed with her during the meeting with Tessai and Urahara, but nothing like he'd been at other times. It seemed to Orihime he was waiting for something.

She'd waited all weekend for it, too. By the time school started on Monday nothing had changed. She kept expecting him to grin and tell her he remembered. It didn't happen, and as the days of the week stretched long without promise, she began to doubt.

She didn't feel the stiff breeze in the overcast afternoon as she left the schoolyard and headed home alone on the sidewalk. Tatsuki had been invited for ice cream, of all things, with Yuki. Orihime was glad for her friend, she really was, but she felt a little guilty at the less than utter joy she knew she should feel.

The wind cut into her longer school skirt, chilling her knees as she hitched her school bag over her shoulder, eyes rising to the building tops in customary expectation and hope. She'd almost be willing to see a former Espada hanging off one of them if it meant Renji would also be there.

He was. She smiled as Renji waved from the three story building across the street. She returned the gesture, confusing some of the students around her who couldn't see the shinigami above. The familiar flit in her heart made her smile more as he dropped down beside her a moment later.

"Hi," she said, smiling wider, hoping to see something familiar in his face.

He smiled back at her, watching the gray-violet of her eyes take on that hopefulness that was eating at him lately. "How was school?"

She nodded. "Good. How are you?"

He sighed, falling into step with her as he tried to find the right phrasing he wanted. "I was thinking," he said, frowning, "maybe I should go back to Soul Society and see if my memory will come back quicker there." He heard her breath catch, her steps slow. "Just for a while, Orihime. Maybe start over with the thirty-day testing for the gigai, if Captain Kuchiki will allow it."

She shook her head, her hand automatically reaching for his black sleeve as her eyes opened wider. "Don't go, Renji. Please try to remember here."

He looked to her fingers closed around the robe. "I think it'd be easier to remember there." He took her hand, wishing the contact would draw out his memories. All he got was a feeling of opportunistic guilt as her fingers curled over his. "I haven't talked with my Captain yet; he's still on family business for a few more days, but that could give me time to remember before he returns."

She looked to each of his eyes. "You haven't told him yet?"

"Not yet." He didn't add his doubts at Kuchiki's willingness to keep on a lieutenant without a clear memory. His thumb moved across her fingers as he tried to grin at her. "I'll try to get back soon."

She nodded, looking down at their hands together. She frowned, gaze slowly returning to his face. "Do you _want_ to remember us, Renji?"

Her voice was so low he barely heard the words, but they slit straight through his robes. Instinctively his hand tightened on hers. "Of course I want to remember, Orihime. More than anything else." His eyes dropped to the pout at her coral lips, anger surging through him again at the feeling of being robbed. "Never think I don't."

She nodded. "Are you leaving soon?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

"Will you let me know before you go?" Her eyes searched his as she said it, voice more feeble than before.

He nodded, fingers gripping hers tighter. "I'll let you know."

* * *

He walked her home and then returned to his small apartment, the set of rooms feeling colder than the late October should have allowed. The music from Mrs. Tanaka's unit below seemed especially mournful as Renji gave the gigai slumped on the futon in his bedroom a loathing look.

_Maybe Urahara should be working on gigais that could house spare memories_, he thought as he shrugged into it. _Now that would be productive._

He picked up the small photo of Orihime on the night stand, eyes moving over her smile and shining eyes. He wanted to see that light back in her. He remembered seeing it before, usually when she looked at the strawberry in the past. He'd last seen it the night after he'd bested Grimmjow.

The fight he didn't remember.

He set the photo back on the stand and went to the small dresser. He'd called his division a few times already, each time getting the third seat on the line, and each time the red warning light for a low battery flashing on the communicator screen.

_Another thing Urahara or Kurotsuchi needed to address_, he thought. Longer-life batteries.

He opened the top drawer and fumbled through the layer of boxers and socks for the extra batteries, frowning at a spare black headband that was folded wrong beneath the clothes that were not folded at all. He picked it up, undoing the odd folds he didn't remember making.

As he did a slightly curled piece of pink ribbon floated down to the open drawer. He picked it up.

The smell of cinnamon came to him, accompanied by Orihime's soft giggle, the feel of her lips on his for the first time, her hair bunched in his hands, the scent of honeysuckle as she lay in his arms and the sound of rain, the bitter taste of unsweetened cocoa.

The rush of memories sent a soaring headache through Renji as his mind caught up with the past weeks. The memories sharpened, cutting deeper into his thoughts as he realized the pain she couldn't share with him.

He slammed the drawer shut and stormed out of the apartment.

* * *

Orihime couldn't focus on her homework, hadn't been able to all week. Her thoughts constantly hung around Renji and the void he'd left in her. She hadn't told Tatsuki, or anyone, but she thought Ichigo knew something. She guessed who had told him.

She waited for the tea in her cup to cool on the kitchen counter, pulling her arms tighter around herself, the lilac sweater warm enough, but not helping the chill she knew was all in her mind. She glanced to the door a moment before Renji knocked on it, knowing who it was.

She took a deep breath and braced herself. At least he was telling her before he left for Soul Society.

"Hi," she said as she pulled the door open, hopes raising a notch when she saw the grin on his face. "Are you --"

"I remember everything," he said, closing the door behind him before catching her in his arms and kissing her soundly on the lips before she could react. "Everything, Orihime."

"Everything?" She squealed, smiling and kissing him back with surprising force, the thrill of his arms around her again sending her pulse racing.

"Everything." He anchored her body close to his with both arms as she wrapped her own around his neck, face crowding his. "The way your hair smells when it's wet, that tomato and raspberry thing you made for dinner, how you liked our first time more than sweet bean paste. Every moment we've had together, love."

Her eyes closed contentedly as he kissed her again until she was breathless. Her arms gripped harder around his neck, eyes opening as his face remained close to hers.

"I missed you, Renji," she breathed. "I didn't know days could be so long. Even longer than the days in Hueco Mundo."

"I'm sorry. I missed you, too."

One of his arms slipped from her and she looked to the strand of unraveled pink bow he held.

Her eyes shot back to his. "That? That's how you remembered? You kept it?"

He nodded, kissing her again, her soft lips eager for his. "That was it."

She sighed, smiling. "You're not going back to Soul Society?"

He shook his head, feeling her fingers rest on the nape of his neck. "We've got some catching up to do."

She nodded, feeling him pull her closer, nearly off her feet. "Lots, Renji."

* * *

**Author's Note: _Thank you to everyone who read this story, and thanks especially to those who reviewed._**


	33. Note

Of course you're heeding the rating for this story, right? There's been a pruning of stories lately.

Should this story be removed for any reason, it will be posted elsewhere in its original form.

Thanks for reading...


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